#I wouldn’t be surprised if there are even vhs tapes like that still circling

[maester-of-spreadsheets]

We are losing so many things with DVDs and DVD players going by the wayside, but this morning I specifically wanted to have a moment of silence for those bootleg DVDs you could get from nehalix or dvd stores in Queens and Mumbai that were called stuff like “moods of Shah Rukh khan” and it would just be videos ripped from YouTube in potato quality

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (4/5)

Still working on this for @peachworthy. Should wrap up sometime this week or next and then the full thing'll get posted to AO3. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 here for now!

They decide to do it on a Saturday night.

Link has the weekend off from work and no classes. Rhett’s schedule is also free. They discuss the matter in terse terms, both seeming nervous about the idea, but neither backing down.

As such, Saturday rolls around with little fanfare until late into the evening. An evening that finds Link sitting on the couch, one of his legs jiggling and bouncing about as he waits for Rhett.

Rhett comes out to the living room holding a pillow and he offers it to Link. Link looks at it with some confusion and his friend clears his throat, eyes darting away, “For your lap.”

“My-?” Link looks down and then to Rhett and then…oh. Link colors, realizing that the pillow is to be used in order to cover any potentially ‘arising’ situation on his part. Feel exposed yet stubborn, he remarks dryly, “Don’t think I’ll need that.”

Rhett lets out a loud laugh and pats him in the chest with it, “Trust me. If I’ve done my job right? You will.”

“…point taken,” Link says softly and he takes the pillow, settling it over his crotch. To be fair, he probably will pop wood. After all, he sometimes pops it when Rhett’s full clothed.

Nude?

Yeah.

Link presses down on the pillow harder, even the errant thought of a nude Rhett causing a stirring. Rhett walks to the television and fiddles with the remote.

An app that Link’s noticed before, but never bothered with, is clicked on. Erotes Plus. The screenshots for the videos that come up are…certainly something. Link looks away, almost overwhelmed by all the bare flesh before him. The titles of the videos are also a bit much. Rhett notices and Link can hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “Prude.”

Link scowls and glares back at him and the screen. He is nota prude. However, titles such as ‘Lonely Housewife Squirts for The First Time’ and ‘He Rides His Daddy Dry’ would take anybody aback. At least Link would like to think so – he supposes some people are more immune than others. After all, his own history with porn is on the small side.

During puberty he’d taken his healthy peeks at nude magazines and a few of his friends had snuck out adult VHS tapes to check out, but for the most part it hadn’t interested him. Granted, this was probably due to his eventual discovery that – while he appreciated the female form – it didn’t draw his interest quite like the male one did.

And finding gay porn? Where he grew up? Yeah, pretty much a completely impossibility. And then – when he’d finally managed to snag some – it had, once more, disappointed. It all just seemed so cold and callous. Like a business transaction with a boatload of grunting. Not at all to his tastes.

Rhett, scrolling through the videos, finally finds one titled simply ‘Movement’ and turns to Link with an apprehensive glance, “Still plenty of time to say ‘no’.”

Link’s throat is dry. Unlike some of the other screenshots, this one is vaguer. It’s two forms silhouetted in shadow. One of those forms is Rhett. Link feels numb as he speaks, “I’m good.”

Rhett clicks the video and it begins.

He moves over and sits near Link, lounging against the other side of the couch in an oh-so-casual way. As if an adult video starring him hasn’t just begun to play.

The film opens with a lithe redhead in a yoga outfit doing various poses. While this is being shown the title card appears followed by the starring and since Link highly doubts Rhett goes by ‘Jenessa Star’, he can’t help but chuckle at, “‘Donatello Velvet’?”

“What?” Rhett asks simply and Link gestures to the television, “That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Problem?”

“That’s the screen name you chose?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just don’t see you as a ‘Donatello’,” Link grins at him and Rhett laughs, rubbing one finger along his top lip thoughtfully, “What would you’d’ve gone with then?”

“If I was doing adult film?” Link asks and at Rhett’s nod, he crosses his arms and thinks, “I don’t know…Bevin, maybe?”

Rhett tosses his head back and laughs and Link feels a fissure of delight at that sound, just as he always does. He turns back and the redhead’s poses have become…much more complex. Almost painful looking as she contorts herself to degrees Link wouldn’t think possible and then she rises, stretching out and that’s when Rhett enters.

Or maybe it would be better to think of it as Donatello enters. Yes, it’s a little easier that way and Link does his best to cling to that, to try and stay nonchalant as he offers dryly, “Well, well – there’s a familiar lookin’ fella.”

Rhett just hums and they both watch as he walks up to the woman. He runs his hands along her shoulders and down her arms, whispering into her neck huskily, “Good form.”

Link can’t help but let out a snort. Rhett rolls his eyes, “Okay, okay – I know, I know. Dialogue’s a bit-?”

“Bad?”

“…it could use some improvement.”

“Uh huh,” Link just beams and hey, this isn’t so bad. Cheesy and kind of silly and maybe it will just stay like this. Light and fun. For all Link knows, they won’t even watch the whole thing. Maybe just some of it and then they can turn on something els-!

Rhett begins kissing Jenessa’s neck, white teeth visibly dragging along her skin and Link’s whole body tightens. A phantom sting starts along the same side of his neck that Rhett’s touching on Jenessa. Jenessa’s whole throat arches back, a pleasured moan leaving her and Rhett’s tongue is…very pink.

Link’s Adam’s apple bobs as he says (much huskier than he’d like) “N-Nice camera work…”

Rhett just hums, “Mac’s always had a good eye.”

“Mac?”

“Mackenzie, the director of this one.”

Link just lets out a sound of acknowledgement as he watches Rhett reach around Jenessa and tug at her tank top. Tug until her small, pointed breasts pop free. He cups them in his hands and he has…great hands.

They looks so tan against her skin, palms rough and big, and Jenessa lets out a full throttle moan. Rhett teases the pink tips, fingertips agile as they play along the sensitive flesh, as they circle around her areolas.

She whimpers and turns, kisses him fully, passionately, and it’s…messy. Wet. Link can feel his whole heart thump hard at the sight. Janessa’s hair is shorter than Rhett’s – cropped close to her scalp and Rhett’s hands have abandoned her chest to run through the short strands.

Link barely stops himself from reaching up and touching his own hair, instinctively wanting to mimic how that might feel. To imagine Rhett doing it to him.

He tries not to fidget and talking, talking will help, “Surprised this isn’t more, ah, instant.”

Rhett shrugs, “Foreplay’s a thing, man.”

“No, I know,” Link knows his voice pitches a little high at this, defensive, “Just…figured, mean...’s porn…”

“Some of the earlier videos on here are like that, but when EP got bought out, the new owners took the company in a different direction.”

“EP?”

“Erotes Plus. The platform these films are on,” Rhett explains and then he starts mentioning a few things about different production companies and distributors and the like, but Link is too distracted because Jenessa is now fully naked and Rhett is on his knees between her legs, feasting on her moist lower lips.

The silken tip of his tongue is parting her, dancing along the bundle of nerves that is her clit and her head is tossed back on a loud, wild whine.

Her pale body undulates and she’s gripping his long hair so hard. Link feels as if he’s having an out of body experience. This is his roommate. His friend. The man he’s secretly in love with.

And he’s pleasuring this woman with such…focus. With intensity and finesse and when he rises, his erection is clear, straining at the linen pants that are containing it. Link points to the screen weakly, “Hippie clothes.”

The comment is stupid and unhelpful, but Rhett just laughs, “Yeah – kinda the theme of this series. I’m like, a Yoga Instructor or something? Least that's the way it was explained to me, so – linen pants, cotton top – I mean, we’ve had better costumes, but for this shoot-!”

Rhett is talking some more but, again, Link is barely listening. His eyes are transfixed by what’s taking place on the screen. Janessa easily strips off Rhett’s shirt and then his pants and – No. Underwear.

Link is seeing Rhett’s dick. It’s there…thick, but not as big as his own, a visible vein running along one side. Dusky dark and with a blushing pink tip and gently curling hair hiding his full, taunt sack…

“Link? Buddy? You doin’ alright?”

“Fine.”

“Lookin’ like you seen a ghost," Rhett teases, but there’s a breathless quality to his words, “My body all that bad?”

Link just shakes his head and watches as Jenessa strokes Rhett, as his head falls back and he lets out a shuddering gasp that Link feels in his very bones.

Link is suddenly very, very thankful for the pillow that bobs some as it reacts to the situation taking place beneath it. That situation being Link’s own dick perking upwards, making his jeans tight and constrictive.

“You…?” Something Rhett said finally seems to click in Link’s head, “You said this is a series?”

“Yup,” Rhett murmurs and now the film shows him pressing Jenessa against one of the studio walls and she raises one leg high. Insanely high. It’s a very gymnastic level move and Rhett slots his cock up with her opening, sliding hard and deep into her body.

Jenessa lets out a wail of pleasure as he presses in and she holds that leg up – all strength and grace as he begins to move within her at a steady rhythm.

Her hips answer some, but it’s more about how…open she is. And how deep he’s getting. They’re eyes are locked as he picks up his pace, rocketing in and out of her, shaking her whole form with his thrusts, her tiny breasts jiggling with each movement and movement, they call this…

“Got an award for this one.”

Thank God. That one comment draws Link back to some semblance of sanity even as his body quickens with an unspeakable longing, a carnal hunger that aches, “Really?”

“Uh huh,” Rhett says with no small amount of pride, “Best Sex Scene.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I owe it to her to be honest,” he waves to the screen, “She’s the one turning herself into a pretzel throughout this thing. Same for the rest of ‘em. They kept finding co-stars for me to work with who had had extensive training in this sort of body contortion. It was just my job to, uh, well…”

Rhett waves again and the answer is obvious: to fuck them through it. Link is not at all limber. In fact, he’s kind of a klutz. Nothing to match up with someone like this.

For some reason, this realization leaves him hollow. Cold. His arousal dims some, “Where’d you get the award from?”

“XRCO.”

Link makes some sound that would imply he understands, but he doesn’t. Rhett sighs, “Got nominated for Most Popular Male Performer on Pornhub but lost to Johnny Rockwell. Guy deserved it though. Performance he did that year was nuts.”

Link’s lost in the vocal cacophony that is erupting from the television speakers. Moans, gasps, grunts, cries of sheer ecstasy as Rhett and Janessa really ramp it up.

They’re in a different position now, Jenessa’s body once more arched at a crazy angle and Rhett's just...really getting in there. His hips are pumping double time, like a jackhammer, and she is loving it.

Her blue eyes are flashing with adoration, her lips curled in that moue that speaks to an almost pleasurable pain and Link can’t help but ask, “Are the others with her?”

Rhett takes a moment to process the question and when he realizes Link is asking about the other films in the series, he shakes his head, “Nah, man. You don’t usually have repeating partners. Like I said, they found other people who could bend in weird ways. The sequel to this sees me with Julian St. Croix. Great guy. Really smart. He’s actually working on another doctorate. Plans on working in the tech field when he retires, which – money he’s making, should be pretty damned soon. You want me to dial that up?”

Link just shakes his head. The idea of watching Rhett doing something like this with yet another person and with a man no less…

He feels crappy for, well, feeling crappy. This is Rhett’s job. He shouldn’t take this personally.

Besides, it’s not like Rhett knows how Link feels about him. To him, they’re just friends and he should play the part of friend – be a friend, a good friend, “I can see why you won the award, Rhett. You’re doing a…a great job. Real good acting.”

The sound of the shocked (yet oddly sharp) laughter that leaves Rhett at that actually causes Link to finally look at him.

Rhett’s face is a ruddy red, like he’s embarrassed or something, and he’s looking at Link with a bit of a wildfire in his eyes, “‘Good acting? Are you serious?”

Link finally shifts about on the couch (which feels fantastic considering his body has been fighting off a plethora of sensations for a while now) as he fully turns to him, pillow still firmly in place, “Of course! I mean, it-it seems like you’re really into this girl,” he gestures to the screen, “when you’re doing this and I imagine that’d take some acting chops.”

He chews on his bottom lip and lowers his gaze, hands ghosting over the pillow as he talks to it more than Rhett, “Un-unless you really are into her.”

“Into her?” Rhett pokes one finger over to the television, “Into Janessa?”

“Yeah, I mean…if-if you two are a couple or-or were one or-?”

“Me and Janessa?” Rhett asks incredulously and some of the heat seems to leave him. Link gets the impression that Rhett had, for a moment, been mad or affronted by Link’s well intentioned compliment, but now is completely changing track. Now Rhett seems charmingly baffled, “You think I’m into Janessa?”

“I-I was just saying if you’re not into her in this,” Link waves to the screen where (seeing as the volume is dying down) it would seem the film is reaching its conclusion, “Then the acting is good and if you are-!”

“I’m not,” Rhett confirms firmly, “I am very much not, nor was I ever, into Janessa. We’re friendly, but we’d never work as a couple, man. She likes cats.”

Rhett says the last as if it’s a blasphemy and Link can’t help but giggle, suddenly feeling bright and light even though he knows better than to do so, “Problem?”

“Not a big fan of lil demons…”

“Noted, “Link sighs and he feels much, much better. The film is finally over, he’s seen some of Rhett’s work, and he can now say the following with sheer confidence, “I’m proud of you.”

And with that, Rhett freezes. He freezes solid, back going ram rod straight, and his eyes – they’re as round as dinner plates.

Big and green and looking at Link like’s a wild anomaly and Link worries that maybe he, somehow, inadvertently offended him with the remark so he’s quick to explain, “I-I mean it, bo. I’m proud of you. Going out there and-and doing something like this. Being so…so exposed and vulnerable and for anyone to see and yeah, sure, I mean, I guess it’s just for people to-to beat off to or whatever, but when you think about it, it’s something that brings people pleasure, which is a lot better than bringing something bad into people's lives and I know some would argue that porn is like, some gateway into violent dark tendencies or whatever, but for the average person it’s a good thing to explore and the fact you can so freely provide that to them and not be ashamed-!”

Link is blathering.

He’s a blathering idiot.

But he feels like if he stops talking, Rhett might snap at him. Or be mad. Or-!

But instead Rhett just shakes his head and whispers, “You’re unbelievable.”

Link’s diatribe cuts off. His blood stops in his veins. He feels completely seized.

“I’ve been trying so hard…fighting with everything in me,” Rhett breathes and he just…eases forward, eases closer. He’s in Link’s personal space and Link wonders if he should back up or something.

He can feel the heat coming off Rhett’s skin. His breath is bathing Link’s face as he rasps, “But I can’t anymore. You’ll have to forgive me, but…”

Rhett kisses him.

Rhett. Kisses. Him.

Rhett kisses Link.

Their lips meet in the smallest, quickest, sweetest little peck. The sound of it, the quick wet click of their lips…it’s earth shattering, sound-barrier breaking.

And Link feels his whole nervous system lurch at it. And Rhett is still looking at him, searching his eyes wildly. Link blinks and licks his lips and tries to speak, but there’s nothing to say.

Rhett just grins softly, “Bad for business…that’s what you are…”

Link’s gaze dips to Rhett’s mouth. To his lips. Lips that were on his seconds ago. His eyes feel heavy lidded as he gulps and Rhett just huffs as he kisses him again. Again.

Another kiss and this one is more than just a peck. This one? This one is the one Link’s been dreaming of, the one he’s been wishing for.

This kiss is perfect.

[hufflepuffhermione]

If you feel like another, “You’re getting crumbs all over my bed.”

I absolutely cannot make sense of the timeline for Donna coming back from Germany/her recovery so this is a little hard to put in a particular spot, but sometime early S6. 

Donna isn’t sure how long she napped, but when she wakes up to see Josh standing over her bed, she knows it must be pretty late.

It takes far too long for it to strike her as odd, him standing in her apartment, at the door to her bedroom. Then again, after waking up with him by her side in Germany, this doesn’t seem too out of the question.

“Hey,” he says. He looks exhausted—that’s nothing new, but the circles under his eyes have only seemed to darken since everything. “How are you doing?”

“How’d you get in here?” she asks. He doesn’t have a key to her apartment. It’s not that she doesn’t trust him, but he’s never had a reason to use it before. His is closer, and nicer, and doesn’t have a roommate or cats.

“Your mom,” Josh says with a smile. “After years of making you miss just about every holiday known to man, she might finally be coming around to me.”

Donna thinks that there’s no way her mother couldn’t like Josh now, not after he rushed to Germany to be by her side and arranged flights for her mom to come out as soon as possible as well, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she pushes herself into a sitting position, carefully adjusting her leg so that it remains elevated. It’s not lost on her how quickly Josh comes to pick up the pillows she tossed on the floor earlier and put them behind her back. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re not glad to see me? Donna, I drove all the way out here and…”

“Of course I’m glad to see you, but you have so much going on right now that…”

Josh sits on the other side of her bed, practically bouncing. How someone can be as exhausted as he is and still brim with so much nervous energy is beyond her. “I thought you could use some company besides your mom or your roommate,” he says, tossing a bag between them. “I brought snacks and movies.”

She peers into the bag. It’s full of junk food—chips, cookies, candy—all things she hasn’t eaten in ages. “And there’s no ulterior motive here? You haven’t brought mountains of paperwork along with it?”

He rolls his eyes and drops an array of VHS tapes on her lap, and it strikes her that he must have remembered that she doesn’t have a DVD player. “This is everything I had that doesn’t have… you know, explosions or guns or anything in it,” he stammers.

She remembers back when he was recovering, when she would be careful to be sure the movies they watched together were absent of violence. Back then, it had been more for her own sake, but considering how Josh’s mental state had deteriorated, she’s grateful she did. And it touches her that he’d do the same for her.

The movies he brought are mostly animated movies directed at kids or rom-coms, many of which she remembers buying for him herself. He complained about all of them, and frequently fell asleep (which she didn’t blame him for—he needed his rest), but it’s sweet that he brought them back.

Still, she might as well make his time worthwhile. She holds up one of the tapes, the case cracked from use. “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington?” she proposes. It’s one of his favorites, since he can’t stop being a political creature even for the purpose of entertainment, and he smiles at her suggestion.

“I thought you were going to put me through one of your terrible rom-coms again,” he teases, standing up from the bed to put the tape in.

“You brought them over. I would have been well within my rights. But frankly, I’m beginning to miss Congress.”

He laughs and presses play, coming back to steal one of her pillows and sit beside her, his back against the headboard. “Need anything else?” he asks, opening a bag of chips and taking a handful.

“You’re getting crumbs all over my bed,” Donna chides, as she takes a handful as well.

“You need to change your sheets anyway.”

“Are you trying to say something about my hygiene?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “No, I just know that sitting in a bed all day can make your sheets get gross pretty fast.”

“You would know that, wouldn’t you?” She says it lightly, but his face darkens.

“I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

She’s known Josh for long enough to know the depths of his guilt about the whole situation, and even if he’d never say so, she’s sure it’s tearing him up inside. Which would frustrate her if she let herself think about it—she’s the one who’s suffering, so why should he take on unnecessary pain? But being angry with him for that is too exhausting, so she reaches out and squeezes his leg. “I know you’re doing what you can. With the peace deal and Leo and everything, there’s so much that…”

He nods and presses his lips together. “Yeah.”

“Besides, this was pretty sweet of you to do, even if you’re going to make my bed a mess,” she replies lightly, stealing another handful of chips.

She’s seen the movie before, and she’s still in a bit of a medicated haze, so it doesn’t come as a surprise when she falls asleep halfway through the movie. When she wakes up again, he’s gone, although whether to the office or home seems like a bit of a tossup.

There’s static on the TV and crumbs in her bed, but everything feels like it might be just a little bit better.

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Could you write an imagine were Yandere Randy Meeks being obsessed with an GN actor that stars in horror movies mostly?. He has posters , magazines of photoshoots that the reader has been in .Also he owns every movie that they've been in.

The reader goes to his school ,but since they're even more popular than Billy and Stu ,they never talk. One day the reader goes to one of Stu's parties , Randy finds the reader making out with Tatum (who is single)

I hope you accept my request!!!

Thank you for requesting! I’m really into Scream so, of course I’m jumping on any opportunity to write about it 😔💝

It’s cut pretty short but I hope it still meets your expectations 💕

Warnings: Stalking, mentioned non-con, and loose ending.

You weren’t a big name out there— in Hollywood- but you were the biggest name in Woodsboro.

You were this small town’s very own celebrity and you were one of the good ones, too. Not like those who move to big cities to follow even bigger dreams, no. You always came back for the new semester and you always stayed humble.

It’s admirable, really. And that’s just what Randy Meeks is doing... admiring. He’s a cinephile, after all. A movie buff. He’s gotta see every film at least once before he dies, so it’s a no brainer he’d see yours eventually.

You’re a horror actor. One the studio picked up to surprise audiences— nobody suspects the unknown actor to be the last one standing, after all. And holy shit do you look good covered in blood.

When your movies were turned into vhs tapes, Randy stocked them on the shelves of the local video store he somehow still worked at. He’d pocket a copy every time. You never stepped foot in there, to no surprise. During the fall season, your face was plastered on nearly every surface. It would creep him out too, if he was you.

Randy doesn’t read much, but he grew an unhealthy habit of buying any magazine that would simply mention your name. The teen issues always had posters. He liked those, but he enjoyed the exclusive photoshoots even more. They were mainly to promote the movies you starred in, but boy were they something else. You just can’t get away with the same stuff on a magazine poster. He kept those under his bed. To, you know... admire. But— you- you were never suggestive in any of them. The real teasing was from the movies themselves.

On a particularly cool night, Stu decided to host a party. Randy almost declined his invitation, ready to stay home and binge a series he’d seen more than once, until he heard you were making an appearance at the Macher residence. He doesn’t know how you had agreed to any of it— you always seemed like the type to avoid parties and you didn’t know a single person from his circle- but he was all for it. There was no other greater opportunity to approach you than that very night.

The party started off slow, not a lot of people were keen on arriving early (or while the sun was still up), but sure enough the number of guests soon snowballed. Randy had spotted you when you had arrived and kept his eyes glued to your head. You were greeted by so many people, it was almost impossible to miss.

Randy took a swig of his beer.

Tatum split from her friend Sidney quick and approached you quicker. Her hands were all over you in a second, dragging you around the house. It was supposedly to show you around, but Randy didn’t feel good about it.

He followed at a distance, pretending to converse with Stu’s other friends.

Tatum was basically glued to you the entire night, giving Randy no room to get you alone. It made him want to squeeze his glass bottle ‘til it popped.

Before he knows it, you’re drunk and she’s sitting you on the couch.

At this point, people had started to leave. Things were settling and Stu wanted to pop in a movie while everyone else finished up the snacks.

As Stu was fiddling with the VHS, Randy watched Tatum gradually get closer and closer. Way too close.

You both lean in... and there’s a peck.

Randy has a white knuckle grip on his drink as he watches with widened eyes. He’s mad.

Sidney grabs his arm, only partially taking his attention off of the events unfolding on the couch.

“Have you seen Tatum?” Sidney asks him.

Randy points with his drink and Sidney spots the two of you getting a little too comfortable out in the open.

She sighs and pulls on his arm again.

“Could you drive me home? Tatum was my ride.”

“I hitched a ride with Stu. Don’t have a car.” Randy replies in an almost whispery fashion. He wouldn’t want to drive Sidney home anyway, not when Tatum is taking advantage of you like that. It boils his blood to see it, but he hasn’t the courage to intervene.

Stu finally gets a movie playing and snatches the remote. He plops down on the sofa, right next to the couch where you and Tatum are having your disgusting little make-out session.

It’s not the beginning of the film, actually very close to the end. The scene... he’s watched your films so many times that he recognizes it almost immediately and it would seem you do too.

You pull away from Tatum, while she attacks your neck with love-bites, and watch the screen.

The scene before you is from a movie you’ve starred in. And it seems to be making you uncomfortable.

“Oh, that’s in poor taste.” Sidney says, watching the television.

The contents of the scene are very graphic, Randy would even go as far as to say the implications at the end are even worse. But... the sequel lets you make it out alive, give or take a couple sanity points.

Stu sees your discomfort and laughs.

“Look at the way the big bad groped you! Doesn’t feel like acting to me.”

“Stu, leave them alone. You’re making things weird.” Tatum speaks out, probably because Stu’s butting into her kissing session.

All the while Randy is watching your reaction to the screen. You genuinely look hurt as you watch the scene play, it makes him wonder what really happened on set.

“I’m going home.” You finally state and Randy’s heart starts beating again.

Tatum whines, tells you she’s sorry about Stu and Stu just gives you a haunting grin. Sidney doesn’t talk to you, just waves, and neither does Randy, though he doesn’t wave. They then watch you get up, grab your coat, and leave.

But, this is his chance. Randy could approach you right now and comfort you. Could he do that? Does he know how to comfort someone right now? He’s not sure but, a couple minutes after you leave, he tells everyone he’ll be right back.

On his way out the door, he wonders if he’s a bad liar.

[mithranqueersmusings]

5 Star Man I

Chapter: 1/3

Rating: E (Smut Warning)

Summary: Dennis has been gone for a long time, Mac misses him dearly and finds himself rooting through his old sex tapes.

Tags: Smut

Pairing: Mac/Dennis

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Mac didn't suppose he'd ever become adjusted to the newfound quietness of their apartment, or his apartment to be more accurate. Dennis leaving out of the blue like that had shocked them all, within a day or two they started to realise that it hadn't been some strange joke or scheme of some kind. As much as he didn't want to admit it, it hit Mac the hardest of all the gang. Their relationship had been complicated to say the least, never truly being defined or talked about properly, and this disappearance hadn't made things any clearer.

It was another solitary night for Mac, debating whether to actually do something productive with his evening or just slide into bed and hope for sleep to come. Most nights he'd just spent exercising, something in his mind wanted to believe that if he got into better shape somehow it would make Dennis come back. After weeks of hearing nothing, and having no way to contact Dennis after he misspelled a digit or two on the phone number he'd given to Mac, it didn't look like his best friend was ever going to return.

He was already fairly drunk, nothing too eventful was happening in the bar ever since Dennis' departure, and his head was beginning to ache. All the medication was always kept in Dennis' bedroom, Mac had questioned this a thousand times but only ever got strange and evasive answers, and even though Dennis was gone he hadn't moved any of his things around. Mac traipsed into Dennis' room, flicking on the light reluctantly and letting out a groan with the new pounding in his head. The main reason Mac thought Dennis was coming back some time soon was that he'd left all of his possessions behind; one or two things wouldn't have been suspicious but he'd left everything. Even some of his most prized possessions: his Steven Winwood CD collection, the RPG Mac had bought him for Valentine's Day and his expansive sex tape collection. The latter was definitely the most confusing, Dennis had spent years upon years creating those tapes and to leave them behind without any thought didn't sit right with Mac at all.

As he trudged over to where Dennis kept the medicine - there was so much in the drawer that Mac had never even heard of before, but he never questioned it - the tape collection caught his eye. He didn't feel like he was intruding, after all he'd sat with Dennis - and Charlie and Frank on occasion - and watched the tapes together, just like every ordinary group of guys do. Popping some pain killers into his mouth and swallowing, the dryness of his throat itched, Mac bent down and started rifling through the tapes. Even in today's world, Dennis still recorded them on VHS (something about the nostalgia of it all, he'd said), each of the title's scribbled in Sharpie alongside a star rating. Dennis took these ratings very seriously, and he rarely ever gave a girl a 5-star rating, as far as Mac knew he hadn't actually ever given one. Perhaps it was the boredom, or the alcohol, or the missing of Dennis that spurred Mac on to search through more of the tapes curiously in search for any that could boast a full rating.

Some of the names sparked memories for Mac, especially since he'd usually be in the apartment when Dennis would bring the girls home. He was careful taking them out of the box and laying them gently onto the floor, after all if Dennis did ever come back he didn't want to risk sending him off again because his tapes had gotten all smashed up. Tape after tape and not a single girl had impressed Dennis enough, which didn't surprise Mac at all, yet he continued to search as though he was somehow still connecting with Dennis through it all.

A countless number of tapes later and Mac considered giving up, he hadn't even gotten through half of them when his eyes suddenly light up; there was one! The excitement this caused Mac wasn't entirely justified, he knew that it was a little strange what he was doing, but he couldn't help it. This feeling shifted dramatically when Mac was able to bring the tape closer to read the name:

Dennis ★★★★★

Mac blinked dumbfounded. Was this some kind of strange coincidence? Surely there were no women in the world named Dennis, although Mac wasn't someone to go around judging the ridiculousness of people's names. But then what was it? Surely Dennis wouldn't have filmed one of just himself, the whole point of the tapes was to look back on his past conquests with pride, but then again he was never the most humble of people. Continuing to stare at it, Mac decided there was only one way to find out and that was to watch it.

The excitement of the whole ordeal was beginning to spread across his body, Mac told himself the erection growing in his pants was merely a side-effect of the alcohol, as he walked over to the VHS player and popped the tape in. Fumbling around for the remote desperately, Mac finally found it and settled down at the front of Dennis' untouched bed before turning the screen on.

Starting up, the video looked the same as all the other tapes with the all-too-familiar angle of the camera positioned towards the bed. Dennis was there, judging by the look of him the tape wasn't actually that old, which surprised Mac somewhat. The lighting in the room was low, a few candles lit around the space to help set a mood. Mac waited for a girl to show up as he heard Dennis saying something he couldn't quite make out, but no girl came into view. Mac shuffled uncomfortably on the bed, his pants were getting increasingly tighter, as he watched Dennis turn around to stare directly into the camera.

"Hello." He said in a low voice, one Mac had heard a thousand times before on these tapes, and even though he knew Dennis wasn't actually talking directly to him, it still felt that way.

Mac gulped as Dennis' fingers moved up to the buttons on his shirt, circling around them loosely before actually undoing them.

"I'm so glad you could join me." Dennis smirked slightly as the checked fabric slid off of his body and onto the floor fluidly "We can finally be alone together."

Mac raised an eyebrow subconsciously, this was only getting more confusing as it went on. Dennis had been known to talk to himself, even referring to himself in the third person sometimes, but making a sex tape of himself for himself was reaching a new level of narcissism, even for him. No matter how strange he thought it was, Mac couldn't deny that was completely enraptured by it and didn't think for even a second about turning it off. He'd seen Dennis naked countless times, but this felt more personal somehow, like it really was for him.

Next Dennis moved to work on his belt, slim fingers loosening the buckle and pulling the leather out until he held both ends in his hands; he gave it a quick pull and winked at the camera before tossing it carelessly onto the floor. Mac felt his mouth drying up as he eagerly watched Dennis' hands slide down to unbutton and unzip his jeans. The denim slid down his skin effortlessly, revealing that he was wearing no boxers underneath.

"You like what you see?" Dennis asked with a low chuckle, standing entirely naked in front of the camera unashamed.

Mac felt compelled to answer, as stupid as he knew that was. His own jeans were getting far too restrictive now, he had to loosen them just to relieve the pressure, that was all. Dennis took a few steps backwards then seated himself on the bed, sitting on his calves in a way which almost made him look delicate. Mac couldn't help his eyes fixating on the way Dennis' hard cock bounced as he adjusted his position. To think that Dennis was doing this on the very bed Mac was sat on now only spurred his excitement further, he idly brushed his thumb over his clothed erection and let out a quiet hiss at the much needed contact.

"God, you're so hard, aren't you?" Dennis' voice got softer as his hand slowly curled around his own erection "I think I can help with that."

"Shit..." Mac unintentionally whispered, Dennis' sultry words going straight to his cock.

"Why don't you take that hand and put it to good use?" Dennis let another quiet laugh, but his eyes were piercing "Just watch me."

Dennis began to follow his own words, slowly pumping his hand up and down his length, letting out a high-pitched moan which caused Mac to flutter his eyes shut. He wasn't exactly sure when he'd made the decision, but he'd hastily pulled out his hard cock and began touching himself too; following Dennis' rhythm closely.

"Feel good?" Dennis asked, his tongue poking out slightly to run across his top lip.

Mac found himself nodding slightly, his head was beyond hazy at this point.

"You look amazing." Dennis spoke in a whisper again as he began quickening his pace, throwing his head back gracefully as moans began to pour of his mouth.

Instantaneously, Mac followed suit and jerked himself faster, he'd awkwardly shuffled his jeans and boxers down to his ankles so that he could spread his legs more freely. His mouth was hanging open, low groans spilling uncontrollably as he watched Dennis slowly become undone. This was far from the first time he'd seen Dennis like this, but something was different this time; rather than watching Dennis dominate some random woman, instead Mac felt like he held the power this time and it was severely messing with his head. Dennis never submitted to anyone, in any situation whatsoever, so it naturally made sense that he'd only be submissive to himself. Mac knew he was never supposed to see this, that he was encroaching on Dennis' privacy, but he'd gone too far now and it felt far too good to stop.

"I feel so empty without you." Dennis moaned, his neck arched as he began thrusting into his hand "Need you to fill me up."

Mac felt himself sobering up as he watched Dennis' idle hand, that had been pressed loosely against his thigh, curl round behind him to pull his cheeks apart. His eyes widened dramatically, this certainly wasn't where he'd been expecting it to go. Mac didn't follow Dennis' actions this time, but he wasn't entirely sure why; after coming out he'd been no stranger to such activities, even though he'd never really done it himself. The sight of Dennis slowly pressing a finger into himself was incredibly mesmerising, Mac almost stopped altogether just to watch him.

"Fuck..." Dennis breathed out heavily, Mac couldn't exactly see what was going on behind him but judging from Dennis' expression he'd forced another finger inside.

Mac's hand grew more erratic and sloppy as he watched Dennis penetrate himself, he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to last. Dennis' eyes had been shut tightly for a while now, the raising of his eyebrows and soft sounds falling from his lips was the only indicator of how he was feeling. A third finger was hastily inserted, Mac could only tell because of the pained expression that quickly spread across Dennis' face but it soon melted into bliss as he too started to lose control.

"So big..." Dennis groaned, beginning to ramble "You're so fucking big."

The volume of his own moans shocked Mac, he'd never really allowed himself to come undone so freely in the apartment before through fear that Dennis would hear. Thinking about Dennis not being there distracted from the blissful feeling, Mac tried to shut it out and focus entirely on the display before him, as though Dennis were truly here.

"Getting close..." Dennis gasped, Mac wasn't entirely sure how many fingers he was thrusting inside at this point, his tousled hair sticking to his forehead in places "I'm gonna cum... I'm gonna cum for you."

Mac was almost over the edge at this point, if this had been any other porno he would've let go long before this but something inside him wanted to wait until Dennis was ready too, so that they could finish together. His wrist was beginning to ache, his lip bleeding where he'd bit into it deeply without even thinking. Dennis snapped his head forwards, his eyes opening once more as he stared deep into the camera with longing eyes.

"Are you ready?" Dennis' voice wavered slightly "I want to you to cum inside... I know you're close too, I can feel your cock throbbing inside me."

Mac was at his breaking point, he'd slowed down ridiculously just to try to stretch himself a little bit further but he could feel the wave of pleasure beginning to wash over him. Before he closed his eyes, he savoured the image of Dennis so wrecked and desperate, throwing his own head back as he managed to catch Dennis' final words.

"I'm gonna fucking cum!" Dennis almost shrieked "Cum inside me, please. Give me your cum, Mac."

Before he could even fully register what had been said, Mac was already too far gone as he felt himself stuttering and his vision departing completely. For a moment or two images flashed in his mind of Dennis riding his cock, kissing him deeply as they came. Falling back lazily onto the bed, his hand and stomach sticky, Mac lay there for a few moments debating whether he'd actually heard what he thought he had. Surely not. It was just one of those strange moments, that was all. By the time he felt ready to sit back up again, the tape had finished and the TV continued to hum quietly with the screen a faded grey. One thing Mac certainly wasn't going to do was think about the fact that he'd just touched himself too to a video of his best friend fingering his own arsehole, what good would that do? Instead, he kicked off his jeans and boxers and waddled off into the bathroom to clean himself up.

At least his headache was gone now, he thought as he splashed his face with water. There was nothing better to get you ready for bed then a good orgasm, Mac smiled to himself as he slunk into his own room and fished around for a relatively clean pair of boxers to wear to bed. Since Dennis had left, his overall togetherness of life had doubtlessly decreased, but as long as he never descended to Charlie and Frank's level, Mac didn't see what the problem was. He threw off his shirt into a corner of the room and was able to clamber into bed before he heard a sound: the front door opening. Mac scoffed and rolled his eyes, it wasn't unlike the gang to barge in so late at night but he certainly wasn't in the mood for it right now. He debated pretending to be asleep, but it didn't take long for him to realise that it would've been pointless. Letting out a huff, he stomped over to his bedroom door and threw it open, sticking his head out in anticipation of finding some strange events unfolding in his living room, but instead the gang wasn't there at all.

"Hey, buddy!" A voice called out excitedly, it was Dennis.

Mac was flabbergasted, still grasping onto the doorknob as he stared at Dennis in alarm.

"You alright? Didn't give you a scare, did I?" Dennis asked with a grin, he'd thrown his keys onto the coffee table like everything was normal.

"Dennis?" Mac finally asked, taking a couple of steps into the living room to get a better look at him (was he dreaming again?) "What are you doing here?"

Dennis let out a hearty laugh "What am I doing in my apartment? Well, living, for a start." He gave Mac a confused look before turning to face his room "You been in here?"

Mac felt his heart sink, granted he probably should've cleaned up in there - at least turned the light off - but Dennis was the last person he'd expected to see tonight.

"Uh..." Mac hurried over to Dennis who was walking back into his room casually "No, no I-"

"Oh... I see." Dennis tutted sarcastically "Been going through my tapes, again? Can't really blame you, there's some pretty good stuff on these. So who'd you go for? Brittany, Ellie? Ooh, what about Stacey, that one's a classic!"

Mac began to panic, his brain could hardly think of a coherent thought let alone figure out some kind of excuse. This had to be a dream, a nightmare would be more accurate, as he watched Dennis eject the tape from the player and hold the VHS in his hand.

Silence.

Dennis stared at the tape, all the joy that had been on his face wiped away in an instant as Mac stood there feeling his face heating up in complete and utter shame. After what felt like a lifetime, Dennis finally looked back up to Mac and though he was trying to mask what he was truly feeling, Mac could see right through it.

"You watched this?" Dennis asked, his voice had gone cold.

Mac's eyebrows knitted together, he began biting his lip again nervously "Dennis, look-"

Dennis' eyes began to scan around the room, fixating on the bed which was ruffled and dirtied "You touched yourself, to this?"

If only he could wake up from whatever hell this was. Mac scrambled for something to say, anything, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out. Dennis' face shifted again, the anger melting away into something softer yet still somewhat sinister.

"What did you think?" Dennis began to smirk, the exact same one Mac had seen on the tape.

[kingliam-rys]

Forgotten Memories (Liam x MC)

A/N: So Hi, I never write anything (this is my first oneshot/fic/ drabble?), so don’t expect this to be a regular thing but I got this idea from a photo from my childhood (I was dressed as a princess), and my MC head canon, kind of has a tragic backstory and I felt like this was a good way to discuss it with Liam. I just want to preface that there isn’t a ton of dialogue, because as I wrote this, I realized how atrocious I was at writing dialogue…..Oh also,  I mention that they have a VCR, and I’m just gonna need you to pretend that those aren’t obsolete anymore, cause otherwise they wouldn’t be able to watch the tape. so yeah…thanks. ok. enjoy. bye. 🙈🙉🙊

Description: MC(I named her Riley because I’m unoriginal) replays an old tape from her childhood, and shares some memories about her past with Liam. 

Riley sat in one of the spare rooms in her and Liam’s quarters. Dozens of boxes scattered the room as the Queen tried to unpack. It seemed comical that after being married to Liam for the past eight months and living in the Palace, she has just found the time to sort through belongings from her past. Though given the renovations on the royal quarters were only recently completed, and then the extended stay in America for the Beaumont/Walker wedding, it really wasn’t a surprise at all.

Most of the boxes went untouched when Riley came to Cordonia over two years ago, and while she still did not have a need for her old Diesel jeans, or black non-slip waitress shoes, sorting through her old life brought up many nostalgic memories. Besides the clothing that took up most of the boxes, there were a few that held mementos of her childhood. An old barbie, that now had tattered clothes, and frizzy hair, it was one of the only dolls that Riley had when she was little, and she carried it everywhere. Holding the doll in her hand, she could recall the time when she was just a child, she’d bring the doll along with her to the park, where she’d find her older brother shooting a basketball, and her neighbors grouped around watching the young children scattered about.

A small smile played on her face as she placed the doll down, and picked up the next object, another memory forming. It was a coffee mug that had a faded floral print and a chip on the rim. While it didn’t seem like an extraordinary object, it held a significant place in Riley’s heart. It was the coffee cup she saw her mother use every day. The same one that would be held in her Mother’s hand as she woke her for school every morning, the floral scent of her mother’s tea rose perfume, reaching her, before she even opened her eyes. Or the same mug that would be clutched in her mother’s grasp as she called for Riley and her brother to come inside, from the balcony of their small one bedroom apartment.

The things that were in these boxes, told more about Riley’s life than any of her accomplishments could, even more than Maxwell’s memoir would.

Riley sat back from sifting through the box, trying to recall her childhood, beyond what these objects were able to bring about, but that was the problem, there weren’t many more. Whether that was because they were insignificant to her, or whether she subconsciously wanted to forget the bad, there weren’t many. But, obviously, her life went on, and while her mother worked tirelessly to provide her with everything her and her brother could want, Riley couldn’t help but be grateful for what had become over her life. Married to a man who loved and adored her, a little baby on the way. Hell, she was Queen of a country, how could she possibly regret anything about how her life turned out. Well maybe one regret, the pixie cut in middle school that had her mocked for months. That may be the only thing she’d change.

Her hand absentmindedly went to her small bump, ghosting gentle circles over where she felt the tiny flutters of the baby’s movement. A happy reminder that her child would have a childhood filled with happy, loving memories, with both of its parents guiding them through life.  

Her grin was prevalent as she returned to sorting through the remaining contents of the boxes, mostly old papers and projects from when she was in grade school, a few sports item,-most likely keepsakes from her late-brother, and an old high school sweatshirt that had a faint scent of nauseating axe body spray, most likely owned by an ex-boyfriend that she stole it from and never returned, nor threw away. As she lifted the sweatshirt, she spotted the last item remaining, an old VHS tape. It’s content even more of a surprise, since there were not many photographic memories from her childhood. And she could not remember a time when her small family ever had a video camera. The quizzical look returned when she saw the unmistakable scrawl of her mother’s hand writing on the label: Riley’s 4th B-Day

Checking the time on her phone, she noticed that Liam would be arriving home from his last meeting soon. She closed up the last of the boxes, deciding to take time another day to sort through the remainder of her past life. Exiting the spare room, Riley walked through the hall of the royal family’s quarters, holding onto the VHS tape, glancing up when she heard her husband enter through the front door.

“Hello, my love,” He says, removing his suit jacket, placing it on the chair beside the entrance. Riley smiles at him, noticing his tired appearance. Liam had taken on more work, and scheduled even more meetings for himself, to lessen the load of her schedule, but also lessen the load of what would be expected of them in just a few short months.

Riley greeted him and he leaned down to press a kiss to Riley’s lips, while also placing a hand on her growing bump. She reciprocated wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning into his embrace.

“How was the rest of your afternoon, feeling okay?” He asked, holding her close, relishing in their embrace.

“Yes, it was very productive. I got through some of those old boxes, most of it can be donated, old clothes and what not, but I found some things from my childhood, random mementos that I had held on to, nothing too special but,” Riley explained, and her giddy joy took over as she held up the tape she found, “Look what was hidden at the bottom of one! It’s from my childhood, though I don’t remember much from my fourth birthday, but how amazing, I thought there was nothing left, but this just comes out of nowhere.”

Liam returned his wife’s joy, while he knew some of Riley’s upbringing, it was always a painful remembrance for her to talk through, as she reminisced about her late mother and brother. This provided a glimpse into her forgotten childhood, that she could keep and remember forever.

“I know we have dinner with our friends tonight, but do we have time to watch it now?” Riley questioned, Liam taking a glance at the time on his watch, “I believe so. We should be able to watch this in our room.” They grabbed the tape and headed to their bedroom. Once in the living area of the suite, Liam put the VHS in the player and turned on the TV and when they were both comfortable on the couch, Liam pressed play.

“Ok, my little love, are you ready for your big day,” a light voice asked. “Yes, Mama, I ready to be a pwincess.” A little voice replied, bringing into view a baby faced-Riley.  Liam’s eyes widened as he looked at little Riley dressed up as a princess. The sparkly pink dress with matching crown and glitter wand, were perfect.

“And what is today, Princess Riley?” her mother asked. “My bwirthday!”  The eager little girl shouted, showing off a toothy grin, “And how old are you sweetie?” Riley replied holding up four fingers. “How many is that Riley?” Her mother encouraged.  Riley touched each finger counting out, “One, two, three, four. Four, Mama!”

Just then, a little boy, dressed in his own princely garments, appeared on the screen, standing next to Riley, “ah, and there is Prince Nicholas. Are we ready to start the party then?” The voice asked. The picture began to shake and shift over the small apartment, landing on the scene of the kitchen table where it was set for an extravagant tea party. With the two kids seated at the table, a woman passed in view, sitting next to little Riley. That woman, being Riley’s mother, Rose.

At the sight of her mother, Riley’s breath caught in her throat as she watched intently, everything about this forgotten moment making her that much more emotional. She never thought she’d be able to see her mother, or hear her mother’s voice again, it had been years since she’d passed. Riley had almost forgotten how gentle and even toned it was, it was like listening to a peaceful lullaby.

The scene played out before them, young Riley and Nicholas both taking moments to tell extravagant tales of their “life” in the castle, until Riley’s exclamation that when she grows up, she wants to marry a Prince.

Liam squeezed his wife’s hand at that moment, stealing a glance at her, smiling, as she watched the home video play out. Liam kept his gaze to her, as looks of confusion rolled along Riley’s face. She didn’t remember much about this birthday. Sure, she remembered the pink dress, and the tiara, and of course, the claims of wanting to be an actual princess, but what little four year old girl didn’t dream about being a princess.

Riley didn’t have too many memories from when she was younger, very few stuck, and there weren’t many reminders of what her life was like before she was able to recall moments from her childhood. And the moments she could remember, weren’t always filled with her mother smiling so much, or her brother and her laughing until their faces turned red.

Tears began to prick her eyes, damn hormones, Riley thought, trying to hold back all the emotions she was facing watching the reminders of her fourth birthday. Liam tightened the hold on his wife as he sensed her reaction to the video. The memories carried on before them and Riley was almost lost in nostalgia until a knock sounded through the old recording.

In the video, Riley’s mother gave a confused look, as her children voiced who they thought the unexpected visitor may be. Rose moved out of the camera frame as she went to answer the door, where a new voice was heard.

“Hello Princess!”

Little Riley’s face lit up as she saw the source of the voice, and with a grin exclaimed, “Daddy!” Immediately running out of the camera view to greet him.

Though their joyous reunion was only overheard, the look on her young brother’s face remained, as he rolled his eyes and gave an annoyed huff. Rose, returning a moment later, giving Nicholas a pointed look. Riley could practically hear the tone her mother would use, Play nice Nicholas. It’s your sister’s birthday, it makes her happy.

That’s when the man, that Riley never thought she’d have to see again, stepped into view of the camera. Holding on to his four year old, smiling and laughing. And overall what looked like a blissful moment, only pained Riley to see it even more.

Present Riley immediately tensed, reaching over to grab the remote to turn the TV off. Her breath was heavy, as her heart rate increased. She felt like her world was closing in around her as she reacted to the memories the old VHS tape brought about. Riley’s relationship with her father was a bit troublesome. He was only around occasionally during her childhood, showing up maybe once or twice a year-usually around the summer, and if she was lucky again during her birthday. But the man had disappeared all-together when she was eight years old, only sending a sporadic birthday card or Christmas card, if he remembered. Or at least that’s what she thought. She learned the truth, years later, of what kept his life, his actual, real, day-to-day life from hers in New York.

Riley felt Liam’s hands smooth over her cheeks, not even realizing that her tears were falling harder than before. The tightness in her chest subsiding as she could faintly hear her husband’s whispered words, that tried to calm her down. Take a deep Breathe, Riley. It’s okay, my love. I’m right here. Look at me.

She was able to calm her breathing, realizing her panic wasn’t just affecting her, but the little life inside her. Hesitantly, she lifted her gaze, meeting the bright blue eyes of her husband. They were filled with worry as they began to search her face.

“Hey there, talk to me.” Liam’s thumbs wiped the remaining tears from Riley’s cheeks. She hiccuped at the fetal attempt she made to calm down. “I-I’m fine.” She whispered, fearing her voice would give away the true heartbreak she still felt. She didn’t want Liam to worry, he always worried enough about her. “I just need a moment,” she asked, settling against him as Liam returned the embrace, his hands landing on her bump.

Even eighteen years later, Riley didn’t realize the hurt that she still held onto. How the man who lied to her, and left her, could still continue to break her heart. The memory on the VHS tape wasn’t even a bad one, it actually seemed like a normal jovial moment between her and her father. But maybe that was the issue, of all the memories Riley had with her father, they were always happy. Her second grade graduation where he surprised her with red roses and a trip to an ice cream shop for a giant chocolate sundae, or her sixth birthday where he bought her an American Girl doll and a visit to Manhattan where they ate tiny sandwiches and drank tea.

Yes, the little time she spent with her father was some of the most resounding in her mind, and that broke her heart even more. She couldn’t remember the joyous times with her mother, no shopping trips or grabbing coffees, gossiping over a boy Riley had a crush on, nor could she recall special moments with her older brother, him comforting her over a boy who broke her heart or cheering for her at her high school graduation. No, instead, the materialistic recollections of her absentee father filled her thoughts.

Liam soothingly ran his hand along her back, her head tucked under his chin. Riley was no longer crying, just staring at the space ahead of her. “Do-Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, lowering his gaze to hers.

“It was hard to see them. My mom, my brother.” She paused, shaking her head in a bit of disbelief, “my dad.. it was a bit surreal. I don’t think I’ve ever remembered a time when we were all so happy.” Riley took the time to let it sink in. “I mean, my childhood wasn’t horrible, my mom made sure we never went without, but she worked long hours, and my brother and I shared a cramped bedroom, while my mom slept in the living room. It wasn’t ideal but considering our circumstances, that’s just how it was.”

Liam nodded in understanding, knowing this instance of her life, while it wasn’t a traditional home, it was Riley’s, and he believed that her family’s struggles helped build her into the woman he loved so much. The strong, compassionate, loving, woman.

“But to see my father,” She continued, shaking her head at the thought of him, “My face lit up like someone plugged-in a strand of Christmas lights, I don’t know why I believed that man held the world in his hands, but that’s how I saw him at the time.”

Riley’s voice began to shake near the end, knowing she had to stop. To take a breath, let her husband provide her with a pearl of wisdom that he always could offer to her.

“He was-he is your father, no matter what he decided to do later in your life. I think in the moments he did spend with you, are true and honest to how much he cared for you.” He remarked, not knowing the entirety of Riley’s reality, “Parent’s do crazy things sometimes, some meddle in your life when they think they know what’s best, other’s just leave when they feel like they can’t be their best. And the one’s like your mom, will do everything in their power to make sure that you can become the best.”

He always has a way with words, That was what she needed, Riley knew that Liam always could talk through her jumbled thoughts, to help sort the mess and hurt in her mind, that she couldn’t quite articulate as eloquently.

“Thank you, it helps calm my mind to hear that, and even though I don’t think I can ever forgive him for leaving or for what he did to my mom… thank you.” She tilted her head, capturing his lips. Trying to convey the love she felt for him. He eagerly returned the kiss, only to pull back to rest his forehead against hers, his hand cupping around the side of her neck.

“Anything for you, my love.” He reminded her, placing a kiss to her forehead. Riley leaned into his embrace, wrapping an arm around his neck and she shifted to rest her legs across his lap.

“Can I know what happened? I mean, other than the fact that he disappeared when you were a child, I don’t really know much more about him.- Like what is his name?” He asked, running his thumb along her knuckles. She smirked at his caring nature, feeling herself calm in the hurt she felt towards the man.

“His name is Andrew, Andrew Pierce.” She revealed, sorting through the account of her father’s life “I’ve mentioned before how the last time I saw him was when I was eight years old, but I only discovered the truth about him when I was fifteen, right before my mom passed away.” Riley continued on, to explain how her father had another family in some fly-over state, the traditional white picket fence family, and Rose only discovered the truth when she attempted to serve Andrew with child-support papers. Learning that not only did he not live in New York, he had a wife and child living as a happy family in some upper middle class neighborhood. The nice house, with fancy cars, the extravagant vacations and family parties, while her mother worked 18 hour days, sacrificing time with her kids to make sure they had a roof over their heads and food on the table.

The extravagant gifts that Riley received from her father would be things she would trash later on, knowing how much more he could have provided for her. Not even in materialistic items, but in her school tuition, or school uniforms or lunch cards. Andrew Pierce couldn’t even make sure that his daughter survived on the streets of New York City, his decorum wouldn’t allow for it.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to talk about this before. I thought that, that part of my life was over, that it held no baring over who I am right now. But it does, subconsciously, I think that it has always been a motivation to who I am, and who I wanted to become. Thinking that if I was good enough, he would want to be a part of my life.

“No need to apologize, love. I figured whenever you felt ready to share, that you would.”

Liam’s hold on his wife tightened, placing a kiss to her hair, as he heard the recounts of the man who is her father. It easily rivaled and bested his own, surprisingly. He silently wished there was a way he could take away the pain his wife had felt for so many years.

“I wish  I could offer more, but I know that we learn from our parent’s mistakes. I know that as much as I admired my father as a King, I wish to not repeat how he was as a father to me.” Liam remarked, trying to soothe Riley.

“I know Liam, you are going to be an amazing father to our little cub, they couldn’t ask for anyone better. That’s one thing I know for sure, I never have to worry that you will leave our child or that you will pass them along to a nanny just because you can” Riley smiled, picturing Liam holding their little cub, her dark curls with his expressive ocean eyes. Running a hand through his hair she tentatively thought of herself as a parent. As a mom. It terrified her.

“I’m scared,” she paused, “I’m scared that I’m going to turn out like him, that I’m not cut out to be a mom, to be a parent.” Liam’s arm tightened around her, “I don’t believe that for one instant, you care for our baby so much, you are loving and compassionate and strong, and I know you, Riley, you are meant to do whatever you set your mind to. You are not Andrew Pierce, you are Riley Brooks-Rys.”

A smile tugged at her lips as she rested her head against his shoulder, her fear subsiding at his words, “ Thank you Liam, Thank you for being you,” She whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And hey, four year old Riley got her wish, she married a Prince- well a King, but same thing.”

Riley laughed at her husband’s antics, a swell of love filling her heart. “Yes she did, and that’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her.”  She remarked, planting a kiss on Liam’s lips.

[cuefunkymusic]

Hi! Thank you for your request and don’t worry, your English is just fine! :D I went with a scenario for this one, so I hope that’s okay!

jean pierre polnareff x fem!reader // a night for movies

word count: 1696

under cut for length!

It had been a few months since your good friend, Jean Pierre Polnareff had come back from travelling with a group of friends, or so he had said. You weren’t quite sure what sort of trip would take him two months to go on, but you were glad he was finally back.

The other day, he had invited you to come hang out at his house, and maybe watch a few movies together. Before he had left, this had been a regular thing between you two, though it often ended up with you two watching The Bad News Bears for the hundredth time.

You wouldn’t lie, but you had some sort of feelings towards him- though you dismissed it merely as just a small crush. You knew that the feelings likely wouldn’t be reciprocated, but it was still a fun thought to entertain yourself with.

Walking over to your room, you grabbed the outfit you had planned earlier for the little hang-out you had planned. 

It was nothing special- just a comfortable blouse that you considered one of your favorites, and a black flared skirt you had been keeping in your wardrobe for a while. As you put it on, you eyed yourself in the mirror, adjusting your blouse a bit. 

Now that you looked at your getup, you felt a bit overdressed. Readjusting your skirt, you checked your watch, realizing that you only had a matter of minutes before the planned time Polnareff had set.

Hoping that he wouldn’t say too much about your outfit, you headed out the door- you were lucky that you both lived in the same neighborhood, so you would be right on time. Walking up the steps to his house, you rang his doorbell, waiting at the door. 

You assumed he had been waiting for you, as only in a matter of seconds he opened the door, a grin on his face.

“Hey, you’re just on time, (Y/n!)” he said, holding the door open for you. “Come on in!”

“Thank you,” you said, walking in and taking off your shoes, placing them next to the door in the foyer. You followed his lead as you two sat in the living room on a couch, a considerable amount of VHS tape cases stacked on the table.

“So, what are we gonna watch?” you asked, glancing over at the VHS tapes. There was a respectable amount, as you counted almost 20 tapes.

“Hm, I dunno. I was thinking maybe The Bad News Bears?” “Polnareff, you always watch that,” you laughed. “In fact, I think we watched that before you left. Why don’t we try something different for once?”

“Pfft, I guess you’re right,” he said, laughing with you. “Why don’t you pick something out?”

“Alright,” you said, already getting up to scavenge through the movies he had. You were quite surprised at the variety; he had some classics such as The Wizard of Oz, Gone with the Wind- even Jaws, something you didn’t expect him to be the type to watch. Your eyes widened as you picked out a copy of The Little Mermaid.

“Hey, Polnareff, didn’t this movie just come out this year?” you asked, looking to him.

“Yeah, it did!” he exclaimed. “Actually, okay- if i’m being honest, I haven’t watched it yet. I just picked it up since it was new, and it was on sale…” he said sheepishly.

“Well, perfect!” flopping back onto the couch, you began to open up the VHS case. “I haven’t seen it either, so we can watch it together!” you said gleefully.

Taking out the tape, you put it into the player, and turned on the TV. You grinned, looking over to Polnareff. “So do you know what this movie’s even about? I’ve heard it’s just like, some romance film, but I’m not sure.”

“Oh hell yeah it is! I’ve read a bunch of stuff on it, and it seems really really interesting!” he said, positively beaming. “I haven’t had time to watch it though, and even then, I’d rather watch it with you,” he said, his cheeks starting to flush a bit.

Your eyes glued onto the screen, you didn’t take notice of his reddening cheeks. “I’m sure it will be good,” you said, playing with a strand of your hair as the movie began.

As you two got farther in the movie, you found yourself moving a bit closer to Polnareff. It was pretty cold in the room, and he also seemed to be very fixated on the movie. You grinned every time you saw him let out a little “ooh” or “ah” at what was happening on-screen. You were sure that later, he would end up learning all the songs from the movie to sing as a joke later.

Music filled the room as the melodies of ‘Kiss the Girl’ played onscreen, and as you looked over you saw Polnareff tapping his toes to the rhythm of the song. You smiled- how immersed into the film was adorable to you, oddly. 

Looking back to the screen, you held your breath as you watched the two characters just about to kiss, but you raised an eyebrow in confusion as they sat there, unmoving. 

“Gah, the VHS got stuck? At this part? It’s so new, too!” exclaimed Polnareff, getting up. You frowned at the lack of his warmth as he left your side, watching as he tried to fix the VHS player. 

Glancing at the TV, you felt a strange feeling looking at the screen still, the two characters so close yet so far apart from each other. 

Your mind wandering even further, you felt your face start to warm up as you imagined you and Polnareff that close together, on arm around your waist as the other caressed your cheek, your lips almost touching… 

“(Y/n), I don’t think this wretched thing is gonna work.” Polnareff’s words cut through your thoughts like a knife as you sat up, jerking your head to look in his direction.

“Huh? The tape isn’t working?” “No luck,” he sighed, sitting back down onto the couch. “Sorry about that. Maybe we can watch The Bad News Bears again?” he said, jokingly.

You glanced back over to the TV, the same scene present on the screen. You let out an involuntary sigh as your mind started to wander off again, craving, hungering for affection.

You jolted as you felt Polnareff’s hand on your shoulder, and looking over, you were met with his concerned expression, your face reddening even more. 

“You’ve been really spacey, huh?” his touch on your shoulder seemed to send chills through your entire body, the area on your shoulder feeling almost numb with warmth.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, Pol. Don’t worry.” He cocked his head, a worried expression still present on his face. “You sure? Don’t be scared to talk to me about stuff,” he said. You hadn’t noticed until he spoke, but you were sure that you were as red as a tomato as you felt him rubbing circles on your shoulder with his finger, something that you weren’t sure was on purpose or not.

“Fine,” you said, your gaze averted. Knowing the type of guy Polnareff was, if you tried to hide your secret, he would just keep pestering you about it until you let loose. At least now, in the situation you were in, there was a chance of him letting you down easy.

“I love you,” you said, more of a whisper than anything. Looking back into his eyes, you watched as they slowly widened, a blush spreading across his face.

“You… you love me?” he repeated, looking into your eyes. While his gaze was strong, when you looked at him, it felt soft and reassuring.

“Y-yeah… that’s what I said. I’m sorry if you don’t or anything, I just thought that it would be better to say it now-”

Your eyes widened as you felt his arm wrap around you, bringing him closer to you. Your ear pressed up against his chest, you could hear his heart beating rapidly, his breaths quickening. “Oh my god, you love me!” he exclaimed, the rumble of his voice that you were able to hear quite soothing as you were still pressed up against his chest.

He jumped, suddenly but gently pushing you away from his chest a bit so you weren’t as squished, exhaling sharply as you had more air to breathe.

“Y- you really mean it?” he asked, his eyes twinkling,  the blush covering his face a deep crimson.

“Of course I do,” you muttered, a bit embarrassed. Looking back up at him, he was positively beaming, though you were a bit alarmed when you noticed his eyes were a bit watery. “A-are you crying?!” you asked, scooting back closer to him on the couch. You watched as he wiped away a tear, sniffing. He looked down at you, his gaze soft. “W-what? No, I’m not crying!” he exclaimed, his eyes beginning to water more. “Oh my god, Polnareff,” you said, moving so you were once more sitting right against him, feeling his arm wrap around your waist. Looking up, you wiped away the tears from his eyes. “The small parts we saw of the movie really got to you, huh?” you said, jokingly.

“Don’t say that,” he said, pressing a kiss to your head. “Is it wrong for me to be happy?”

“Of course not,” you said, feeling as if you were going to melt in his embrace. “Can… can I kiss you?” you asked, looking back up into his gaze.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, as you leaned closer until your lips finally met. His lips were soft against yours, and if you weren’t going to melt before, you absolutely were going to now. As his lips moved with yours, you felt yourself dissolve into his touch, the world around you seemingly fading away. Gasping for air, you pulled away from his lips. The fond, soft smile he gave you could have turned you to jello, putting your arm behind his shoulder, looking into his eyes.

“Let’s do that again,” he grinned, pulling you in once more.

[killervibe]

On Thin Ice

So as promised, I wrote a 5x19 Killervibe reaction fic. Because. We need one. You can find this on ao3!

She never did this before, and it was freaking him out.

 She puttered around her kitchen, searching for popcorn, and going on and on about this thing her mother said to her when they went out for drinks. This funny thing that Dr. Tannhauser said which made Caitlin smile, which Cisco was still having a hard time wrapping his head around. He silently cursed himself for missing the one time he’s been waiting for years to give that woman a piece of his mind, forget the guilt for not being there for Caitlin, for not being with her when everything went wrong.

 He took a sip of ginger ale, his eyes following Caitlin’s movements as she used Frost to open the hot seal of the popcorn bag, spilling its contents into a big metal bowl.

 You wouldn’t think anything was wrong, looking at her.

He got up, leaving his glass on the table and not in the dishwasher like the terrible house guest he’s earned the right to become after spending years in Caitlin’s house, offering to take the bowl from her as she settled cross-legged in front of her television set.

 He had spent about twenty minutes rewiring the cables to fit in the old VCR, Caitlin determined to show him her favourite memories of her dad, all unfortunately preserved in VHS tapes. The ones Cisco had always seen hidden in a box on a shelf next to her BBC dramas layered with dust. He offered to burn them onto DVDs before, long ago actually, but she had always ignored him politely, as if he’d never asked the question.

 So it was weird now. Not that the box was out and she was blowing off dust, reading under her breath the dates on the stickers, and not even the fact that she wanted to watch them. With him, he found surprising yes, but it wasn’t that either, honestly. It was that...

 “And she told me about their honeymoon. It was in Spain. Did I tell you?”

 It was that she was chatty. Fast paced, big smile. And just. Not like Caitlin after a death. Not like Caitlin at all. And yes, he knew it was all kinds of messed up that he knows with intimate detail all this about her. 

 “No,” he said, sitting down with a grunt, sinking into the leather plush of her couch. Cisco had a bad habit of falling asleep during Caitlin’s movies because of the marshmallow-ness of this couch.

 “Well it was. I find that so interesting, Mom never told me.”

 Caitlin’s hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and he saw the baby hair wisps at the back of her neck as she bent down over her box, pulling out the one she seemed to want. She lifted it up triumphantly, flashing him a happy glance. 1995 it read.

 Whoo. Baby Caitlin. Here we go.

 She pushed the tape into the slot, and the machine swallowed it happily, churning and whining. Cisco pointed the remote to the right input channel, and then static and high fuzz.

 “It needs to be rewinded,” she told him, and it would be incredibly endearing if he wasn’t so on edge.

 “Oh!” she said suddenly. “We need drinks.”

Cisco made a face. “Caitlin--It’s fine. Come here. I’ll get it.”

 “It’ll just take a second” she promised, running off again.

 He sighed, running his hand through his hair, watching the Snows run backwards on the TV until it hit the beginning.

 When Caitlin returned with his newly topped up ginger-ale with fresh ice, she sat down, pulling the blankets over their laps and resting the popcorn bowl between them.

“It’s been years since I’ve seen these. I was six here.”

 Cisco bit his lip, watching the way she settled her back against the couch with some blanket scrunched between fingers, debating whether or not he should say something.

 “Aren’t you going to press play?”

 Cisco set down his drink on the side table.

 “Hey, can I be real with you? Like for a sec?”

 She tilted her head at him, inquisitive.

 He fished under the blanket for her hand, pulling it out. She looked down at it and frowned.

“Cisco,” she murmured.

 “Are you okay?” he asked gently, scooching forward, rubbing careful circles into the soft skin of her hand in his grasp. “Because Caitlin, it’s okay if you’re not. You don’t have to pretend, never have to with me.”

 She looked so caught off guard, that it was making Cisco confused. “I’m fine, Cisco. I just want to watch the home videos.”

 He studied her, but she wasn’t doing that lip trembly thing before she cried, or that shut off cold blank face she wore for nine and a half months after the particle accelerator explosion, or even her horrified blown back eyes she wore in the months after she came back from Earth 2.

 But he didn’t believe her. Her father just died. Her father, who he had pushed her to investigate the death of, who he had insisted she should reconnect with, if he was out there. And now.

 And now, she had lost him all over again.

 When it came to saving families, Cisco should be left out of the game.

 He breathed out her name, but she simply removed his touch with her other hand, and reached over him to get the remote to start the movie.

 Cisco watched the Caitlin onscreen yelling for ice cream with her two front teeth missing, but also his best friend out of the corner of his eye.

 She laughed at the funny things, and gave him insight on little fun facts about where they were, and why they were important.

 Caitlin’s family was so...In tact, back then.

 “This was before he really got sick,” she said matter of factly, as if she could read his mind.

  “Hey Caity, look! It’s a caterpillar!”

 Six year old Caitlin ran to the tree branch her father was pointing at in their backyard, Dr. T giggling behind the camera, and focusing on the green leaf with the fuzzy orange bug.

 Caitlin looked up at her dad, asking permission, and he nodded. She picked it up, the caterpillar crawling straight into her cupped palms like she was the insect whisperer, and she ran to her mom to show off her new friend with beaming pride. Her face contorted suddenly, and she shrieked, dropping the leaf to the ground, shaking her hands in a hopping dance.

  “What happened?” Thomas laughed, picking the leaf again and nudging the caterpillar back onto the tree.

  “It pooped on me!”

 Dr. Tannhauser’s laugh soared high, and the camera shook as she bent down to inspect little Caitlin’s hand. “You want to wash your hands, honey?”

 Caitlin nodded, and Thomas ushered her into the back inside the screen door and the camera went sideways, then black.

 Cisco chuckled as grey static resumed for a few seconds until the next recording, nudging Caitlin’s shoulder, shoving in a mouthful of popcorn.“You were so cute.” He reached for his ginger ale again to wash it down.

 She didn’t reply. Cisco took his sip, eyes still on the next sequence of the three of them at a bowling alley, waiting for her to push him back and make him spill it all over his lap, but nothing came.

 He turned to his right.

 “..Caitlin?”

 She gasped out a sob, her shoulders shaking with her hand over her mouth, eyes glassy with tears streaming down her face.

 “Oh Caitlin.”

 He paused the movie and pushed the popcorn away, uncaring at how it toppled over onto the ground, pulling her closer to him until she was crying wet into his neck.

 “He was your dad,” Cisco soothed. “And I know you loved him.”

 “I just got him back,” she bawled, and he rubbed the back of her shirt, stroking her hair with his other hand, letting her grieve. She fisted his shirt, clinging onto him like he was all she had left, and Cisco wanted to know how many people had to leave this woman for the multiverse to be satisfied and leave her alone.

 “I know. It’s okay. I got you.”

And, Cisco wouldn’t be surprised if she withdrew from him after tonight, growing distant like he knows her to do, becoming a cold, hard kind of fragile. But just like every time, he’s going to be here for her, sitting on her couch with the Kleenex or the ice cream or the vodka.

 His eyes widened, realizing something.

  He was going to have to be here.

[imashayne]

Klance Christmas Fic.... thing

Okay so here it is, right on the dot for the final week, a fic that was supposed to be a short which is definitely not because it has two parts. Also this first part covers the first weeks, part two has the fireworks bit. So I guess I just tag things? idk how do. It’s really rough I didn’t have time to go over it or have anyone look at it. Hope someone enjoys this. I had fun writing. And it was a fun break from my main Klance fic XD. A very Klance Christmas                

Keeping track of time in space was hard. Well, of earth time specifically. But Lance would be damned if he didn’t even try.                

So ever since the first night they’d arrived in the castle-ship the blue eyed boy had done up a makeshift calendar. It was a simple thing. A piece of note book paper that Lance had found folded up in his jacket pocket. He’d made a grid on it, marking the months and days. Each night before he struggled into an exhausted sleep he made sure to X out another square.               

 Sure it wasn’t perfect. But it was what Lance had to work with. Even Lance doubted its accuracy, but it lent the boy a much needed sense of normalcy. Gave him an anchor in this chaotic mess that had become his life.                

It was because of Lance’s calendar that the three of them were at the space mall.                

Pidge picked up a bright orange streamer which had just been tossed at her feet. More decorative items flew around her in a confusing whirlwind.                The green paladin blinked in confusion. How had she ended up here? “What are you guys doing?”               

 “What about this one Lance?” Hunk called over to the other boy, holding up what looked like a banner.               

 Lance poked his head out from the pile he’d been working on. “Maybe if we can’t find anything better…” Pidge held up her hands in exasperation since she’d been ignored. The movement caught Lance’s attention and he sighed. “I know your head is in Galra space right now but focus Pidge!” His tone was flustered as he dove elbow deep into another stack of odds and ends. (Since they were the poor alien’s only customers the shop owner allowed them to look through the back of his shop)”Well since you weren’t listening before-“ he grunted, lifting up and moving bundles of fabric. “According to my calendar it’s almost Christmas! Now I’ve missed a lot of things fighting in this war. My brother’s 11th Birthday. The fourth of July… HALLOWEEN! Which is like the best in my family you know! But so help me I will NOT miss this!”                

“Your… calendar?” Pidge pushed her glasses up her nose. “You know that I can calcula-“               

 “No! No no no nu-huh nope!” Lance dropped the mass of electrical wiring that looked completely tangled beyond help and stomped towards Pidge, waggling his finger and shaking his head decidedly. “You stop right there. You don’t get to take this away with…. Science!”               

 “Anyway Shiro thinks this will be good for morale!” Hunk added in, placing another item in the sadly small usable heap.              

   Pidge picked up the banner, holding it up to inspect. “This isn’t even that Christmas-y” She muttered.                

“We’re working with what we got.” Lance snapped.               

 “ You could help us out instead of standing there like a cave bug.” Hunk added hopefully.                

“Hey I only came along to see if they had any new video games in!” 

 “Okay yeah-“ Hunk huffed as he pushed a large box to the side that looked to contain nothing but old VHS tapes. (Pidge made a mental note to dig through it later to see if there was anything good amidst the artifacts) “But was there anything new?” He didn’t even pause to wait for an answer. Hunk already knew that if Pidge had found anything that’d caught her eye she wouldn’t even care what the other two were doing.                

With a groan she stepped into the fray.

 “Fine.” 

***                

 Alteans didn’t seem to believe in ladders. So lance had to improvise. Currently he teetered upon one of the trays that had been used to serve food and beverage to the Arusians. Lance wasn’t sure how much the weight limit was or if they even had one, but it hovered precariously for him and Lance was more than thankful that he was almost done.               

 Of course Lance had done up the entire room by himself. Which had eaten up most of the rest of his day. Once they’d gotten back Pidge had muttered a swift excuse and disappeared. Hunk was already putting together a space Christmas dinner to be remembered! As he’d put it. Lance thought it was already going to be pretty memorable, being as it was in space. Shiro was busy being the leader and Allura was busy being a princess.               

 Coran had helped Lance for a bit, but the new red paladin had to send the inquisitive Altean away. Sure Lance loved to talk but not when he was trying to actually focus on something and the mustached man kept asking about Christmas! Lance had almost yelled that he’d explain later.                

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the residents of the castle of lions that Lance’s mood had been less humorous and more sharp. Now he had never been known for an abundance of patience but the boy’s fuse seemed to be at a record short. Almost like a certain mullet haired boy who had once been a paladin. In fact this short tempered change had seemed to overtake Lance around the same time that Keith had decided to step back from team Voltron and into team Mamorites. Or whatever.                

While the rest of the paladins knew very well of Lance’s current frustrations (being as each of them had their own given the circumstances) none of them dare speak about it, or well knew how to breach the topic with their usual bright and teasing Lance.               

 But for the Hispanic it was always on his mind. Keith was always on his mind.              

  Lance gave a particularly hard tug on the streamer he was setting up above the entryway and felt the thin paper rip just as the hovering tray tipped. He only had a moment to think ‘oh quiznak’ before he felt himself falling.               

 It came as a surprise to him that he was able to stop himself, lowering his center of gravity and tilting his body to regain balance. The blue eyed boy was just congratulating himself- The training was really paying off- when something bumped straight into the tray, sending both Lance and this someone toppling to the floor.               

 “What the-“ Lance gasped as he felt strong arms circle his waste. Even as he himself threw his arms out to catch himself, and whoever had knocked him down.                

It all happened in less than a tick. Kolivan and he had just left the bridge where they’d been giving their report from the last information gathering mission. As they’d prepared to leave Shiro mentioned that Lance would probably want to talk to Keith. And before the boy could ask even so much as a ‘why’ Shiro had turned back to Allura, already the two of them back to planning out the coalition’s next move.                 

That had led him here, into the great hall, after seeking out red’s new paladin on the training deck (Keith knew it was unlikely but still ….) in Calterneck’s room and the pool with no luck. He hadn’t even been gaming with Pidge.               

 Finally Hunk, who’d been covered in some powdery green substance akin to  flower and had been found in the kitchen’s (of course) told them that Lance was….decorating? Which had of course led Keith and his superior (and mentor) Kolivan to this moment. The half galra boy’s shoulder had bumped into something midair upon entry to the room. Keith of course being Keith, was now almost constantly in battle mode and as he felt a body slam down into him, before he’d even worked through how an enemy could have breached the castle’s defenses, or who this was, he was moving. Reacting. His arms wrapped around a slim waste, readying to throw the person, only he’d not had any time at all to plant his feet and so they fell fast.                 

They never actually landed though. Not hard at least. The other had twisted their body so the impact was not fully on him, Long arms braced against the rest of the force and a voice that he recognized was sputtering.               

 “What the-”               

 A loud clang echoed as the tray came down against the bac of Lances head, “-cheese” squeaked out.               

 It was Lance that recovered first surprisingly. Since he wasn’t suddenly painfully aware of how the other boy’s body was pressed against his own like Keith now was.                

He tried to scramble away but their limbs had become tangled in the fall, legs folding around each other and arms intersected.                

 “Sorry! I  didn’t mea-“ Lance’s half formed apologies were cut short as he was lifted bodily by Kolivan. As soon as they were free of each other Lance was finally able to see who he’d fallen on.                 

“Oh it’s you-“                

“The black paladin-” Kolivan began to speak but Lance was talking over him.                

“Why don’t you look where’ you’re going?”                

Keith had righted himself and was now glowering at the other.               

 “What are you even talking about?”

“The princess requested-” Kolivan tried again to no avail. 

“ You’re the one who fell on me!”

“Yeah well if you’d been paying attention!” They continued to ignore and talk over the older Galran soldier, who wasn’t entirely sure how to interject between these two. 

Lances voice held a hard edge to it. Once Keith hadn’t heard in a while. It was so weird. They hadn’t really fought for a while. But with everything else that had been going on, namely how it was always mission after mission with the blade, Keith didn’t have patience left for Lance’s shit. His violet eyes flashed before the blue light of the castle’s torches caught against silver tinsel that was twisted and strung down from the vaulted ceiling.

The fight was instantly forgotten as Keith finally took in the room around them. It had been transformed.Different shades of red fabric had been folded and pinned in such a way as to make them look like flowers. These had been hung beneath the lanterns. Along the stairs streamers of forest green had been twisted and swirled around the banister.The arched ceiling was the true beauty. Lance had managed to find a box of simple glass ornaments, which he ‘d suspended down along with thin silver and golden threads. Everything sparkled

.“Woah…” It was all Keith was able to get out

.“What is all of ….. this?” Kolivan was apparently seeking out a word that wouldn’t insult what he could only see as useless and frivolous. Realizing that there was a moment of silence between the two of them he swiftly spoke before either could answer him. “The black Paladin stated that you wished to see us?” 

Lance blinked in confusion, catching up with the sudden switch from fighting to having to fight down his own blush at Keith’s reaction. He turned to look at the tall Galra instead. He’d wanted to see Keith, though it didn’t really matter if Kolivan was there as well. It just made sure Lance could keep himself in check.

Of course Lance hadn’t been aware of his feelings for the hotheaded mullet until it was too late and he’d already left team Voltron. Not that Lance knew what he would have even done if Keith was still around like all the time. It would still be better than wondering when…. If he’d see the other again.But no Lance was studiously trying NOT to think about all that right now! He could sort through his own luggage later.Now was the time for Space Christmas!

“Yeah!” He threw his arms open, smiling as brightly as he could in an attempt to emulate cheer he didn’t quite feel. “You guys are invited to the Christmas party! It’s gonna be the bomb… not like… bomb like the last party we had here of course.” A nervous laugh escaped him and he cleared his throat, powering through the awkwardness he’d created. Because he could already see in Keith’s posture and expression how non-plussed the newest member of the blade was. Where as Kolivan seemed simply more puzzled. “But this time there’s not going to be so many people. Just…” Lance swallowed hard past the lump that had formed in his throat. “family ya know? But since the blade is like, your new team now they’re welcome to come.” Lance only faltered slightly at the end, muscles in his face growing tense and he tried to keep the smile up and pretend as if saying that new team thing hadn’t hurt at all. As if his chest hadn’t grown tight with the words.

“I don’t know Lance… we’re in the middle of a war-“

“I won’t take no for an answer!”

Keith opened his mouth again, not even sure how he could explain to Lance that they had another important mission (weren’t they all?) that they were supposed to be leaving for right now. But he didn’t want to be the one to shatter that hopeful look. He always seemed to be after all.

“What is this Chris-mas?” Kolivan saved him. Keith snapped his mouth shut for once. The leader of the Blade could be the bad guy here.Lance took a deep breath in, readying himself to launch into an explanation when Hunk came huffing into the room, apron still in place and looking somehow messier than he had when they’d left him.

“Hey guys sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to make sure I got the taste down for these space fried plantains. I mean they’re not actually plantains but it’s the closest I could get-“

 “Plantains?” Keith asked as he watched Lance take a large bite out of …. Whatever it was, straight off the fork that Hunk held

.“From Earth- you really are an alien!” Hunk joked as Lance moaned happily, taking his dear sweet time to swallow. Keith shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably.

 “Hunk!” It was weird hearing Lance take on a chastising tone, and yet it seemed natural coming from him. But it wasn’t the yellow Paladin’s comment that had made a strange kind of heat fill up his body. “It’s kinda like a banana I guess?”

Keith had to bite the inside of his cheek as Kolivan sounded out the word silently. His stoic features not changing in the slightest as he mouthed out ‘banana.’

“Seriously you’re a genius big guy! Ellos son perfecto! Though you don’t gotta put ‘space’ in front of everything!” Lance snuck another bite. And another rolling wave of fire moved down through Keith, coming to settle in his lower abdomen. Lance needed to stop making those noises. And feed his damn self. And maybe not talk in Spanish like that again. Something else that had caught Keith off guard. “Anyway Kolivan, Christmas is an earth thing right?” Lance again turned back to the conversation, but Hunk swiftly interjected again.

 “Oh yeah! It’s the best! It’s when you get together with your family and you eat all this wonderful food-“

 “And you put up all these really pretty decorations like trees and lights and candy canes.”

“Candy canes taste so good! And Fudge and Peanut brittle!”

Watching the two of them explain what Christmas was reminded Keith of two literal children. 

“Oh and you get to open up presents! Our tree always have piles on piles of presents but that’s more because of all my siblings-“

“Speaking of presents I almost forgot about the secret Santa! Good thing I caught you guys.” Hunk pulled a small bag of folded up papers from his apron pocket and held it out. Kolivan looked skeptical as he reached in and pulled out a paper.

 As soon as Keith had done the same a heavy hand came down on Keith’s shoulder. “Well Paladin’s we shall make this…. Chris-mas. Now we must leave for another mission.”

Keith hated howLlance’s face crumpled, and how he’d swiftly pushed a smile back in place as if he’d never lost the bright expression.It pained the half galra that he’d grown more used to seeing this forced smile than Lance’s true one. 

“Really? What are you guys up to this time?” Hunk asked.

“Oh nothing too big!” Keith rushed out before he’d really thought his words through as Kolivan led him out, thankfully remaining quiet. Without realizing it Keith had curled his fingers into a tight fist. The crumple of the paper drew his attention down to the fist. Cautiously he unfolded it. For some reason dreading looking at the name scrawled across it in tiny messy lettering. He wasn’t evens sure why. He’d faced down legions of Galra! Fought Alien armies in a damn warship to free the universe!

He quickly peaked downwards, shoulders slumping.

“What is this secret Santa? What secret is he keeping? And why is the red Paladin’s name written on this small scrap of paper?” Kolivan was shaking his head, bemused by the earthlings and their traditions.

“What!” Keith resisted the urge to storm on ahead of the other. Taking in a deep breath. “no-Santa is… a big guy that gives out presents. So with secret Santa you get a present for the person who’s name you pull, but YOU keep it a secret.”

“Hmmm…. I do not know what to get the young paladin.”

“Yeah? I got Allura and I’m in the same exact boat.” Keith folded his arms.

“Would you perhaps prefer a trade? You have known Lance for longer than the princess. It will be the same to me either way.”

Keith’s head swiveled.

 “Really?” He coughed and had to keep himself from snatching the paper from Kolivan’s larger hand. The sudden excitement abated swiftly though as he looked down at Lance’s name.It wasn’t as if he even knew what the Cuban boy liked besides girls and bad humor. If he had any time he might have been able to talk to Hunk about what he should get for the other boy.

“This celebration of gift giving, the Galra do not have a day such as this. Presents are only given on the day of one’s birth. You must share with me more stories of this Chris-mas.”

Keith folded the paper back up gently and slipped it into his pocket quietly. “I don’t have as many stories as the other two. Dad…. Wasn’t around as much. Not on the holidays … or any other day of  the year.” He muttered.The silence stretched out painfully for a moment before Kolivan’s deep voice spoke through it. 

“Why did you not tell the two paladin’s of our mission? It would have been pertinent for them to know.

”“Ch-“ Keith scowled, “I just didn’t want to bring Lan- I mean the other’s down with details. They were so excited.” 

Every mission was dangerous. Some however were more so.Especially when dealing with the druids. Which was where their next mission would be taking them. With ricks such as the komar and Naxzela they had to be more prepared for the magic users. But they had told Lance that they’d make it to his party. And Keith wasn’t a liar.

 If everything went according to plan they would make it

.***

The space was dark and silent. Keith’s body swayed as the ship they stood in entered the planet’s atmosphere. The only other movement was Kolivan, who was fiddling with his blade. Keith’s fingers gripped tightly on the bar above his head. Nine other Galra waited alongside him in the hold as the coalition fought around them in the sky. Even through the metal walls they could hear the ravages of the battle. Once an opening presented itself they would be dropped down. Right into the Druid’s keep. The faces behind the metallic masks were stoic, each soldier contemplating and preparing for the task before them. 

All save for Keith who’s thoughts were a thousand light years away. Pre-occupied with what could be the perfect present for a certain perfect boy. What did Lance even like? Keith asked himself for what felt like the millionth time. Girls, obviously, but it wasn’t like the boy could get Lance a girlfriend for Christmas…. Or wanted to. No. It had to be something he could wrap right? Like maybe some sort of…. Keith would have groaned in frustration, but even in his current state he could feel the heavy apprehension in the air around him to break this silence would break the rest of his teams’ concentration. 

Keith tried to focus on the mission at hand, chastising himself.But before he could enter the same frame of mind that the other’s around him were in, ready for blood, the floor dropped out beneath his feet and he was falling, purple light rising up to meet him.A veritable river of dark quentescense snaked beneath them. The other blade’s angled their bodies. But Keith had reacted too late. If not for Kolivan snatching him he would have dove into the acidic substance. He didn’t even have time to thank the leader before they were all moving. Sprinting towards the almost medieval like castle.

His body moved automatically even as the legions of drones clashed with their meager force. The knife in his hand almost seeking out the mechanical hearts. They moved easily through this obstacle.

Keith’s mind was still elsewhere. On the gift. It was such a simple thing! And yet he couldn’t conjure a single idea. Of course it wasn’t like Keith had much practice with this sort of thing. His dad had tried…. At times. But they’d never had much money. Keith had learned at a young age not to hope for too much. And at the same time to be grateful for what little he had.The experience he did have in receiving gifts he had even less in giving them. 

Keith should have simply kept Allura’s name. That way there wouldn’t be this pressure. Getting something for a princess would be less work. Lance had probably been spoiled as a kid. He sure acted like it. So what in the world, no the universe could Keith possibly find to impress the boy. For the briefest of moments Keith considered making something. But the idea was swiftly discarded. With what time would he be able to craft something And what would he even make? At this point the best he’d be able to throw together would be the severed head of a druid… which wasn’t something he thought Lance would appreciate. 

Vaguely Keith was aware of his surroundings. When the reddish glow of the dying star that served as this planet’s sun was no longer beating down on him. When the drones gave way to live soldiers. They’d reached the stronghold. Good, that meant that their mission was almost over.Keith wasn’t sure how much time had passed but with how smoothly things were going they were definitely going to make the Christmas party. It was weird. He knew he wouldn’t have a gift prepared…. But still he didn’t want to miss it. Easily enough Keith told himself that it was because he didn’t want to deal with a pouty or angry Lance next time they ran into each other. He wasn’t going to acknowledge any other reasoning.

It was pain that brought him crashing back into reality. He felt the blistering sting flare across his shoulder. He clumsily dodged the droid’s next two blasts before smoke swirled to his right and the dark clawed hand of a druid reached forth from it. Magic lighting up the palm. A wall of power slammed into Keith and the wind from the blow screamed in his ears. His back crashed into a wall and he crumpled. Black dots scattered across his vision, but as the violet mist once again churned around him Keith rolled. A tick later there was a crunching sound. He pivoted, snapping his arm up and letting the knife fly from his grasp.The druid’s were fast and their attacks unforgiving. He was beaten back, giving more found than he wished.

“Luxite blades are so interesting.” The deep voice intoned. “The metal is capable of reacting to the will of the one who wields it, and yet…” One of those strong arms snapped out and long fingers wrapped around Keith’s throat, easily lifting him from the ground as if he were nothing more than a rag doll . With his free hand the druid yanked out the sharp edge of Keith’s knife from his side where it had imbedded. Holding it up to Keith’s cheek and slicing open the flesh. “It still cuts you.” 

Keith swung his legs, hooking one up and around the druid’s arm even as he felt the growing pressure close off his wind pipe. Fortunately the momentum he’d already built up carried them both over. Unfortunately the grasp around his neck was still tightening. Keith tried to keep control of his body as they fell, thinking that if he could just get enough leverage he could escape this deadly hold.The druid wouldn’t let him. He was battered into the floor. The druid’s strength and body weight driving down against the one point. Keith flailed for his blade, had seen it fly from his attacker’s grasp when they fell. The edges of his vision were growing black from lack of air, and Keith wasn’t aware that the shadow that had risen up behind the druid was Kolivan until a blade was thrust through the monster’s chest and pulled upwards. 

Kolivan didn’t say anything to Keith as he helped him up but the silence was more than enough. The deep breath that he took into center himself sent a flare of pain sizzling through his body. There was too much going on right now to properly pinpoint exactly where this was coming from but it felt like everywhere. The boy jumped in after Kolivan, his generalized agony now enough to keep him focused on the fight. 

The battle continued to go downhill. The ease with which they had fought and destroyed the droids was now the mirror opposite to their conquering of the keep itself. They managed to complete their mission successfully. However it wasn’t without casualties.

And with how long it had ended up taking them they’d surely missed Lances Christmas celebration. Keith dare not even look at the time. Simply ask Kolivan as calmly as he could if he could to borrow a pod.

“You should get rest while there is time to do so.”Keith set his shoulders, not budging otherwise. If he had been human Kolivan might have sighed, rubbed at his temples or punched his nose whenever he was faced with the young one’s stubbornness. As it stood those mannerisms were of the human variety and so he simply nodded after a short pause. “Then I shall accompany you and deliver the information we’ve gathered along with the report to Princess Allura in person.”

Keith fidgeted the entire ride there. Ignoring both his aching body and the one time Kolivan suggested that he try to sleep. It seemed to take forever to get there. Each tick another that he was late. However when the beautiful Altean space craft came into view amongst the vast darkness and distant stars Keith wasn’t ready Forget the present that he wasn’t showing up with, Lance was going to be pissed that he was crashing in battle worn and late. The half galran hesitated in the pod as Kolivan disembarked, half hoping that the Galra leader would ask for Keith to accompany him to the debriefing.

Of course no invitation came, the older male knew why coming here so quickly was important to the former paladin. And so Keith took a deep breath. Like during the battle agony set his nerve endings aflame, but this time he knew it was due to the bruising along his rib cage. As he walked it was with a slight limp. Where he’d been shot throbbed as a reminder. Keith turned his feet towards the great hall.

He wasn’t even aware that he’d made it there, and for a moment blamed the haze of pain. Realizing a tick later that it was because the room was as dark as the hallways he’d been walking through. Only the dimmed lights catching on the silver tensile as if it were falling snow alerted Keith that he’d made his destination He stopped short and looked around, hand coming up to press against his sore side. The silence was deep.

He had missed the party then. 

It was almost like nothing had been touched at all. Despondently his violet eyes scanned the room. He was about to turn and find Kolivan when a hunched form caught his gaze.It was a testament to his training that before he could even blink Keith had his blade held aloft and at the ready. His first few steps towards the figure were soundless. Until he made out the white and blue design of the armor. Keith stopped trying to be stealthy and shifted to sheath his knife. He sighed in relief, opening his mouth to ask the other what he was doing here. But before he could get a single word out the other boy spoke.

“leave me alone Hunk. I’ll go to bed when I know he’s okay.”

Keith’s eyes widened. Perhaps if he’d not been so exhausted, or injured, he might have folded his arms, allowed one of his rare smirks to grace his features, and ask Lance in an almost innocent tone, ‘me?’

But as it stood his heart jumped up into his throat, which made the single word a breathless whisper. Lance’s head snapped up and Keith felt his chest tighten when he saw the bag’s under Lance’s beautiful azure eyes. “Shit Lance I’m sorry I missed the party-“ Keith didn’t often find himself apologizing, and yet Lance was one of the only people who ever got one from him it seemed.

Lance had jumped to his feet and crossed the space between them in just a few long strides. Keith spoke faster, thinking that the paladin was angrier than he looked and that he was about to get decked in the face. “I came as soon as possible but I couldn’t think of a present for you and there wasn’t any time between the mis-“ Warmth enveloped Keith, Lance’s arms circling his shoulders, pulling him in tightly. Fire ignited all throughout him that had nothing to do with the pain that spread as Lance squeezed him. Keith tensed for only a moment before leaning into this abiding heat from the other boy his own arms coming up under Lance’s gripping against the hard armor.

“You…” Lance’s voice was shaking and Keith’s eyes widened. He’d never heard the other sound like this. “just you, home safe. That’s all I ever want. That’s all I’ve ever needed Keith.”

That same incandescent fire that had burned earlier now rushed up into his face and Keith couldn’t do anything but turn his head into Lance’s shoulder.Neither of them was sure for how long they stayed like this, but Keith could feel how hard and fast Lance’s heart was beating even through his breastplate. And though the pace didn’t slow his own rhythm began to match it before Lance finally shifted. Keith didn’t let go as the Cuban boy leaned back and their breath mingled. It surprised Keith to see that a cherry red colored Lance’s olive cheeks, which of course only worsened his own blush. Beneath his fingertips the half Galran could feel Lance trying to pull away, to take another step back. Retreating the same way he’d been doing around Keith for a while now.Keith didn’t let him. The crimson on Lance’s cheeks grew deeper and spread up to the tips of his ears. 

Since he’d noticed months ago how the red paladin had began to pull away from him Keith had been at a loss for what to do about it.

Until now.

He looked up. “Oh shit we’re standing right under a mistletoe.” 

Keith felt proud of himself for catching the notorious flirt off guard as he spluttered, tilting his head to look and stuttering out, “I t-thought Hunk couldn’t f-find any? I was gonna put so many up-“ His voice was trembling in a very not-Lance like manner

Keith’s smile grew. “you idiot-“

“-Hey!”

“You were just supposed to shut up and trust me remember?” Without waiting another moment Keith tugged hard on the front of Lance’s chest plate. The other’s lips were so soft beneath his own.

[everythingbutthecat]

The Suicidal Elephant in the Parlour or Anne of Green Gables and Depression, Loss, & Suicide

by Adrianna Prosser

It’s no secret I’m a redhead, and it’s likely no surprise that when I was young I pretended I was Anne of Green Gables. In fact, my first best friend from junior kindergarten was a raven haired girl that I nicknamed Diana (hi Erin!) and she in turn called me Anne. When I was 14 I played Anne in my regional community theatre show in the musical (see community newspaper photo below) and it caused quite a stir: the theatre sweetheart who was supposed to play Anne with her beau as Gilbert was thwarted by me, an awkward untrained teenager who already knew the libretto by heart and I owned a straw hat. That show defined my love for theatre and my love of Anne transformed into a love of performing and storytelling. Anne was my life. Anne was me. From her temper to her bombastic nature, her hyperbolic narratives and of course her wild imagination, and let us not forget her competitive nature at school was all playing out pretty much the exact same way only in 1980s Canada in Barrie, instead of PEI in the 1880s.

^1998 newspaper article photo with me and my “schoolmates” in Avonlea school for South Simcoe’s Anne of Green Gables musical production in Cookstown, Ontario.

Naturally I watched the Megan Follows series of Anne until the VHS tapes wilted and wouldn’t play in my VCR. I used the musical version as my audition songs to get into theatre school and plays. I even grew up to be a schoolhouse teacher in a 1910 museum where I involuntarily (ok ok I did it on purpose) looked like Anne in Anne of Avonlea when she gives up her scholarship to stay with Marilla and teaches at the nearby school. I made time in my curriculum to read aloud from Anne of Green Gables the infamous chapter “Tempest in the School Teapot” to my grade 3’s and did voices for Diana, Anne, Gilbert and Mr Andrews; the crack on the head was always the best part played by the schoolhouse strap and a quick thwack to an antique desk. The kids would jump and laugh and want me to read more - what happened to Anne with an e?

Anne has been a big part of my life since I was 5 years old.

Then the CBC casts RH Thompson as Matthew and all of a sudden I’m back in Avonlea with earnest dread: what are they doing to Anne? I hear mixed reviews, I can’t seem to make myself watch it. It has been years since I have shed tears for the reveal of LM Montgomery’s secret: her granddaughter went public to say that Lucy had died by suicide. There was a note in her journal that seemed to indicate as much. I haven’t grieve the author of my youth, but now with this new rendition coming to TV I was going to have to face much more than childhood memories.

The CBC version called Anne The Series is wonderful: the vistas, the costumes, the character work… but there is something hard and dark around the edges. Gone are the warm hues, the bright scenery, the soft focus - this version has the contrast up, the grit and clarity filter showing weathering and wrinkles, and blues and greys highlight most every scene. I am intrigued to see some scenes play out exactly as I remember, and then others make me weep.

I enjoy adaptations, I am an actor and playwright and have read and performed several Shakespearean renditions of the same title over and over again in different ways throughout my career. I get it. Why do the exact same thing when it’s been done before? My thoughts and feelings are that of someone who GETS IT. I liked that in 2017 when this version premiered, we have such days celebrating mental health and focusing on mental illness like #MentalHealthWeek or #BellLetsTalk or suicide prevention day is September 10th and we as a collective here in Canada are getting better at being mental health advocates and de-stigmatizing depression, therapy, suicide and mental illnesses to the point that we are able to talk about it in pop culture (ie. 13 Reasons Why, The Virgin Suicides, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, etc…) and we are left to unpack it at our own pace and level of understanding as an audience member. So when this Anne adaptation starts to inject Lucy Maud Montgomery’s narrative into Anne’s I feel two things: 

OF COURSE now we can talk about this! Now we can interpret the reasons why Anne was talking to her reflection in a glass window and named her mirrored self Katie and talked to herself like as if she was two people - THAT isn’t normal. They could be dissociative disorder and throughout the show we see ways in which Anne has dealt with trauma, loss, and the loss of her innocence (though I don’t think rape was implied she has heard and or seen sex and possibly witnessed rape in this adaptation,) at such a young age that of course she needs imaginary friends to help her deal with her situation, or even just the profound loneliness she lives. OF COURSE there would be residual PTSD moments that leave Anne riddled with inaction and mental scarring hearing from every person that she is not a person but a tool to keep the household running and forced to care for three sets of triplets; being told all the while that she is not a family member and reminded of it constantly. OF COURSE we should raise awareness of the things that were happening in Canada around this time like the beginnings of the Suffragettes and women’s rights activism, and of course we should inject that history into a retelling where we as a viewing audience can accept that lens showing us a bit beyond the warm fuzzy historical narrative we are used to.

BUT. And it’s a but I am still struggling with… When the show paints a portrait outside of what’s in the book and rewrites the scope of its characters ambitions and actions - I get mad. And I don’t know why. The specific scene I’m talking about is when Matthew, brilliantly portrayed by RH Thompson (of Road to Avonlea fame,) Here is the show and the book version:

Having re-read all of Anne of Green Gables to see where the artistic liberties by Walley-Beckett for the CBC version (she wrote on Breaking Bad and I joke that this is Breaking Anne,) are and where the book informs the adaptation. (I wanted to know if Marilla and Matthew had been given made-up backstories or if they were indeed in book *fun fact Marilla WAS courted by John Blythe, but the Jeanie button story, though adorable, never happens for Matthew as we are constantly reminded in the book of how shy he is to women, Anne being the only exception.) And of course the suicide scene was never in my recollection but I had to be sure that as a child I wasn’t just misunderstanding LM Montgomery’s intentions.

This is where my very biased opinion takes the milk crate:

Matthew Cuthbert from the novel never exhibited depression, suicidal attempts, nor “invitations”. When I say invitations I mean the signs that one may perceive as invitations to recognize inner thoughts and feelings to be that of a suicidal nature. And the show version of Matthew also does not exhibit these invitations. But that is not to say that impulsive suicides don’t exist, just that they are very very rare. Also, in Christian Victorian society they are DOUBLY rare. So to, speaking to his character (in both book and show version) do I question Walley-Beckett and her exploitative use of suicide in this narrative - it seems wildly out of character and ridiculous. 

It seemed the choice was made for ratings and getting fangirls like me bawk at this rendition and give buzz to the show rather than playing into the original story’s nuance - like how I applaud her use of mental illness in Anne and that is why she is the “gypsy witch” that everyone calls her in the book: it is why she isn’t like everyone else on the island because everyone else on the island hasn’t been abused like Anne has. The stigma of being an orphan is explored and highlighted with the picnic scene in the show that doesn’t happen in the book. Anne has to triumph over her snobby neighbours not once like in the book (she saves Diana’s sister from croup) but defies a RAGING HOUSE FIRE in the show at the Gillis homestead to save a child and help put out the fire (a nod to her reading everything under the sun even a fire fighting manual at the train station, a call back to the first episode). 

Sure. I like the in-between the lines bits like that. In fact upon re-reading it a lot of the action doesn’t take place on the page, it is usually recounted to us by our grand storyteller Anne herself, so the events are wide open to interpretation because often LM Montgomery says ‘and the concert happened’ or ‘and the school year passed’ and that’s it. My friend JM Frey writes how "Anne is an unreliable narrator.” and I agree.

But, what I can’t handle is imposing trendy topics into a show that is near and dear to many a Canadian heart for the sake of ratings. I thought it a bit odd how blunt the feminist sewing circle was. Not in the book by the way but huzzah for modern narratives and exploring what that gossip and chit-chat would be at Mrs. Lynde’s sewing bees (in the book it’s her gatherings). And clearly what spurned this whole blog-novel is the suicidal elephant in the parlour...

Then the other side of my heart believes this is a good thing, this new Matthew who is depressed because he is getting older and can’t “spare himself a mite” and then his reluctance to listen to his sister leads to them losing all their money. He has the same symptoms of the men who jumped from the ledge of their workplace in the Great Depression. Guilt. Blame. Loss of hope. Burden. And being the sole provider, or being told that one is by culture and society, he is overwhelmed and not only that he is weak in body so he can’t fight as hard as he used to… is suicide so unheard of for our dear Matthew? Many a Christian soul has taken their own lives. Many a Victorian had too, so too our dear writer LM Montgomery is believed to have taken her own life just outside of Toronto proper at the house she nicknamed “Journey’s End.”

While I cannot deny my anger and resentment and frustration with this new rendition of Anne of Green Gables I am reminded that the original still lays intact on my bookshelf and I can re-read it anytime. That maybe this new Anne is taking characters we have invested our love and time with for over a century and that perhaps this unsettling feeling that Matthew would try to take his life is the exact hurt we need to feel to address the suicidal elephant in our own lives. 

When my brother died by suicide I was, am, beside myself with questions, guilt, blame, and looking for reasons. This scene made me react in a similar visceral way, to be sure because I am suicide bereaved, but also I had a pre-existing connection with Matthew since I was 5 years old! Matthew is a fictional character and I am not equating him with my real life brother, but I can’t deny that the way this rendition of the story being told rattled me to the core, and I don’t think it would have elicited the same response with a new tv show about a teenage girl with a distraught father figure who attempts suicide after a huge money loss. My love and time wouldn’t be as invested, and so using a beloved cultural phenomenon like Anne to share these themes, and with a main character no less, seems…. bold. And perfectly infuriating for the right reasons.

So while I digest all these feelings I am resolved to let them stay in this area of grey. The show isn’t wrong and the book isn’t right, or vice versa. What I can take away with certainty that I am glad LM Montgomery’s work is being appreciated all over again, along with her new Heritage Minute 

^which not only focuses on her talented writing, but that she wrote such an epic while struggling with depression. That message that you can still create and create great things while depressed is a message we need to hear and celebrate. We also need to own that some people are suicidal and we all need to step up our efforts to help our loved ones around us know that they can talk about it, seek help without judgement, and lean on us. There is no need to read between the lines like we are here with Anne, and we can ask our friends and family directly for help when we too have thoughts and feelings that make us want to end our lives.

“It was the last night before sorrow touched her life, and no life is ever quite the same again once that cold, sanctifying touch has been laid upon it.” -LM Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables, Chapter 36 “The Glory and the Dream”

Thank you Anne for once again growing up with me and helping me understand my thoughts and feelings a bit better.

[filmssssss]

Post R- Creative Investigation-Collated Questions

Major points from my Primary and Secondary sources:

Rings:

1.       ‘The movie never bothers to explain’.

2.       ’The most frustrating element of Rings right out of the gate is the way the movie keeps starting and stopping, introducing a somewhat compelling avenue for a sequel, then abandoning it for something else until this thing essentially becomes a remake of the first flick’.

3.       ‘All that being said, Spanish filmmaker F. Javier Gutierrez (Before The Fall) does at least make it all look pretty. He’s knows exactly how to replicate the stylised dread that defines the aesthetic of these movies, and at least stages a few decent scares’.

4.       ’ In Rings there is a waffling attempt at explaining the evil potency of the videotape, now transferred to a digital computer file, with some reference to quantum physics, but basically’.

5.       'The original premise finds that it has nowhere to go, except, appropriately enough, round and round in ever decreasing circles’.

6.        ;Ringu, the celebrated Japanese horror movie that started it all, was released in 1998 (The Ring, the not-too-bad American remake, came out four years later). We should remember that in the dark ages of the nineties, VHS tapes and creepy death-threat calls through landlines were not as yet, a form of ancient technology’.

10 Cloverfield Lane:

1.       “It’s a scarier movie than the first film, and it couldn’t be more different. It’s not called Cloverfield 2 for a reason’.

2.       ‘Cloverfield did it with the first movie, releasing a trailer for a film no one had heard of, and we thought if we can do that again on this one, it would be a fun way to get people interested. It’s a movie that’s worth the attention’.

3.       ‘I’ve never seen John Goodman playing a character as weird as this. He’s terrifying’.

4.       ‘There is a new monster in this movie. It isn’t the Cloverfield monster that you know’.

5.       “ J.J Abrams was explaining recently how he is no great fan of what he called ‘Jump scares’: Those moments in horror films that rely purely on surprise and what is just out of view, to make you leap out of your seat.

6.       “ Most tantalising about the film, which Paramount will release on Friday, March 11, was its title, which marked it as a pseudo-sequel to ‘Cloverfield’, the hit 2008 horror movie, also produced by Mr Abrams, which was similarly dropped on unsuspecting viewers.

7.       “ What connects ’10 Cloverfield Lane’ to the first ‘Cloverfield’, its creators say, is not necessarily characters or plot but tone and feeling- a desire to take the familiar elements of genre movies and reinvent them for contemporary audiences.

Case 39:

1.       ‘The movie resorts to the most obvious of emotional connections (aww, she’s going to fill that convenient hole in her life) and it really wants us to believe that a social worker would adopt one of her cases’.

2.       'Enter woeful CGI hornets and lousy green screen work, fake scares and loud noises, shotgun suicides and car chases, and everything else* that the TV spot is trying to sell you**’.

3.       ‘Who are omniscient and all powerful, except when they’re not.

4.       ‘His overly familiar, wholly unoriginal would-be psychological thriller provokes few reactions outside of boredom and — in, sadly, too few moments — derisive laughter’.

5.       ’Because, yup, nice sweet adorable Lily is Satan incarnate, and it doesn’t take long for Zellweger to start catching on’.

6.       ‘The Satanic power comes and goes as convenient, but mostly it serves as an excuse to allow Lily to do whatever screenwriter Ray Wright (The Crazies) believes will advance his poor pretense of a plot, which features, as a highlight, people behaving in deeply stupid ways even when they know what they’re up against’.

Paramount:

1. “Local film production companies of the 1910’s merged or disappeared as Hollywood emerge’.

2. ‘ Block-booking, which forced exhibitors to buy multiple films packaged together from the numerous companies that had exclusive agreements with Paramount’.

3. ‘It’s a small detail, this filmstrip/border design, a sort of rough draft of Paramount working out, in public, its identity and image as a major distributor and, eventually, studio’.

4  ‘ Needless to say, this risked becoming a messy business for the studio and the production companies if it went to trial and revealed some of the dirty side of the industry’.

5. ‘Paramount and Red Granite, who have other on-going legal issues with the Department of Justice over the alleged ill-gotten finances via Malaysia, are represented by Seth Pierce of L.A’s Mitchell, Silberberg & Knupp LLP.  & Knupp LLP’.

6. ‘ With what’s left, the settlement is to cover the approximately 393 class members “who provided parking production assistant services” on any production from Paramount and the other defendants’.

Body Language in Film:

1.       ‘The correct facial gestures can make or break an actor’.  

2.       ‘Use purposeful gazing and eye contact to your advantage’.

3.       ‘Body language plays a critical factor in whether or not you will land the job’.

4.       ‘Michael Argyle: Bodily Communication (1988, (1975)) describes the study of body language as guided by social psychology. Like Birdwhistell, he considers body language (non-verbal communication) a communicative phenomenon. He states that, bodily communication encompasses the following: kinesics, proxemics, prosodics and other appearances (such as clothes, make up, accessories etc.)

5.       ’ The first example is from Danish Television News. It illustrates how exaggerated body expression is uncalled for in the context of TV news. The second example is from a film comedy where exaggerated body expression is in accordance with genre norms’.

6.       ‘The goals of the forthcoming research consist of describing how body expressions are used in the moving image, and detecting and describing the different contexts, which have an important influence on how body expressions are comprehended’.

Genre/Themes: Horror and Psychological Thriller:

1.       ‘People go to horror films because they want to be frightened or they wouldn’t do it twice. You choose your entertainment because you want it to affect you’.

2.       'Negative feelings created by horror movies actually intensify the positive feelings when the hero triumphs in the end. But what about movies where the hero doesn’t triumph? And even in some small studies have show that people’s enjoyment was actually higher during the scary parts of a horror film than it was after’.

3.       ’ “Studies by [researchers such as Zillman have shown that there is a significant correlation between people who are accepting of norm-violating behaviours and interest in horror movies. But that doesn’t explain why some viewers respond positively when the norm violators such as the sexual promiscuous teenage couple, the criminal, the adulterer – are punished and killed by the movie monster’.

Zillman’s Theory

'In other words, excitation-transfer theory is based on the assumption that excitation responses are, for the most part, ambiguous and are differentiated only by what emotions the brain assigns to them. As Zillmann (2006) stated, “Residual excitation from essentially any excited emotional reaction is capable of intensifying any other excited emotional reaction. The degree of intensification depends, of course, on the magnitude of residues prevailing at the time” (p. 223). Hence, excitation transfer theory helps to explain the fickleness of emotional arousal (i.e., how it is possible for fear to be transferred into relief, anger into delight, etc.), and how the reaction to one stimulus can intensify the reaction to another’.

 4.       'Cultural historian David Skal has argued that horror films are simply reflect our societal fears. As Hess notes:

“Looking at the history of horror you have mutant monsters rising in 50s from our fear of the nuclear bogeyman, Zombies in the 60s with Vietnam, Nightmare on Elm Street as a mistrust in authority figures stemming from the Watergate scandals and Zombies again in the 2000s as a reflection of viral pandemic fears. But for as many horror cycles that fit the theory, there are many that don’t. And horror films work on a universal level crossing national boundaries while still working in different cultures.“

5.       ‘“Some of these kids got terrified and started to cry in the middle of the take, and then I realised, ‘Holy shit. What am I doing? … This is horrible.’”

6.       ‘Director Victor Salva was imprisoned for sexual misconduct with his 12-year-old star while making Clownhouse, a horror about – you guessed it – scary clowns terrorising children’.

7.       ‘Endangered children are one of society’s prime fears, and many a modern horror centres on either scared kids or scary kids – ideally both (see Annabelle: Creation)’.