#I love looking like a gay little hobbit why do I feel like throwing up

[ole-to-you-nonetheless]

Kinda fucked up how the cycle of abuse means you can’t even stand to be at a dinner party with your parents, to receive sustenance, for more than the 20 min it takes for all of their friends to get there and “greet” each other

[anachronisticcrab]

Solangelo Headcanons

So I’ve got a lot of these cause I’m such a simp for Nico and Will (feel free to ask me about any other Headcanons on either character, cause I’ve got LOTS)

They’re both massive nerds, but neither of them really like the same kind of things

Like, Will is more of a Star Wars and Star Trek fan, he loves Harry Potter more than life itself, and reads medical textbooks and animal books for fun

But Nico is such a linguistics and mythology nerd, we all know he loves Pokémon and DND, and he’s really into classic literature and art

They both spend 90% of their dates geeking out over their interests, and even when they talk about something the other doesn’t understand, they’re super supportive and sweet cause they’re both cute geeks

As much as they aren’t interested in the same things for the most part, they do have a few interests in common (pirates, astronomy, Dreamworks and Disney animated movies, The Princess Bride, Lord of the Rings, music, marvel and DC)

They absolutely have movie marathon dates. It’s their favourite thing. Their favourite movie series’ are Pirates of the Caribbean, Night at the Museum, and The Lord of the Rings/ The Hobbit

Nico loves watching Star Wars with Will because Will mumbled the lines along with the characters and does little lightsaber noises along with it and he’s so cute

Will likes watching movie adaptions of classic lit with Nico because he points out everything that’s different from the books, why the movies are bad, and insists on pausing it to go on rants about everything they got wrong. Will fucking loves it

They both have tattoos. Will’s got the sun over his chest, and a small semi colon on his left wrist next to a treble clef. Nico’s got a semicolon on his right wrist next to a bass clef

Will loves Halloween, and Nico could take it or leave it (he never did anything for it because he grew up in Italy), but Nico does couples costumes because Will looks at him with puppy dog eyes and Nico’s helpless

They’ve gone as Jed and Octavian from Night at the Museum; Buzz Lightyear and Woody; those two crazy pirates from Pirates of the Caribbean (the one with the wooden eye who dressed up in drag, and the short one who got upset over parlay); 1930’s mobsters; Adam and Barbara Maitland from Beetlejuice; Han Solo and Luke Skywalker

They actually talk to Mr. D, and that’s why they’re his favourite— they play poker with him, they talk to him, they treat him like anyone else and he lives them for it

Will loves every single one of Nico’s siblings (Rachel, Hazel, Reyna, Meg, Jason, Connor, Travis, Percy, Tyson, Estelle, Chiara, Piper, etc). They share ridiculous Nico stories and plan pranks on him— they all adore Will

Will’s siblings and friends lowkey love Nico more than Will. He brings them McDonalds, teases Will and makes Will blush, attempts archery to try to bond with them (he really tries, but he’s just really awful), he tells Will’s little siblings bedtime stories. Nico’s just really awkward, and he really tries, and they all love him. Of course, Cecil, Lou Ellen, Austin, and Kayla bug Nico a lot because he’s so awkward, but the truth is they really, really, really like him

Will is horrible at music. Like, truly horrible at anything to do with music. But he has an encyclopedic knowledge of music from over the last 200 years, and randomly quotes lyrics and talks about musical theory all day long

In contrast, Nico is amazing at playing piano and guitar, plus he enjoys playing the drums. He’s really musically talented, but knows nothing about the theory behind it or about the artists. Whenever Nico tries to learn a new song, Will nerds out over the musician/background of the song/cool lyrical devices that make it an amazing song. Nico frickin loves it

Nico loves cooking, while Will can’t cook for his life. Like someone get this boy some help, he almost burnt down his mom’s house while microwaving popcorn. They agreed that Nico would cook and Nico would clean

Nico can’t drive for shit. I mean, cars don’t exist in the city where he grew up (there’s not enough room for vehicles on the few roads in Venice), and even if there were, he’s Italian and gay (sorry about the stereotypes there, but I really can’t see Nico being a good driver). Will drives them everywhere or gets Jules-Albert to drive them, and hides Nico’s drivers license to ‘protect the public from his menace of a boyfriend’

You know how I mentioned the no vehicles in Venice thing? Yeah, no bikes are in the city either. Will taught Nico to ride a bike after the Giants War (before they started dating). Hazel took videos and pictures cause Nico was freaking out over it and yelling at Will not to let him die

Will finds animals on the street and adopts them. Nico begrudgingly helps Will to take care of the animals until they find good homes for them (mostly from people in New Rome)

Unfortunately, Will gets attached to them, and now they have 5 cats, 2 dogs, 3 snakes, 4 lizards, and a blue Jay

They’re both really grumpy in the morning. If you wake either of them up, they will probably bite your hand off

They like going on runs a lot? They’ll go on jogs once a day if possible, and they’ll chat or share earbuds while doing so

They go on dates on canoe lake a lot. They like to have races on the canoes, and to just float out away from everyone else (they totally don’t joke about being pirates or pretend to be pirates while on the lake, that’d be ridiculous and childish)

When Will’s been in the infirmary for too long, Nico walks in and throws a Kit Kat at his head, and then drags him out of the infirmary (sometimes by his ear, sometimes by his hand, depending on how long Will’s been in there for or how annoyed Nico is that day)

Nico’s teaching Will how to speak Venetian (he sucks at it, but Nico appreciates the effort)

Nico takes a long time to get used to PDA, and even after they’ve been dating for years, Nico’s really only comfortable with holding hands and hugs (plus cheek kisses or quick pecks) in public. Will’s fine with it, and he didn’t stop smiling for three days after Nico first pecked him on the cheek in public

International dates! Paris, Venice, Milan, Madrid, Banff, Athens, Cairo, Tokyo, Sydney, Ho Chi Minh, everywhere! They love travelling!

They have a lot of conversations where they tell the other how amazing they are (since they’re both pretty self-deprecating, and they think the world of the other, it ends up with them just going ‘shut up you’re beautiful, why do you put up with me’ for hours on end)

Dates on roofs! Nico and Will point out constellations at night and cloud watch during the day. They have picnics on the roof of the Big House, and the Hades and Apollo cabins all the time

They buy each other Funko Pop figures for birthdays, Christmas, and basically anytime they want to get each other a gift

[fruitcoops]

Could you maybe write a “73 questions with Sirius Black” Vogue one? Or something like that.

Yes! I had never seen these videos before and it was a fun challenge to write. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

The house is large, two stories tall and painted a soft gray with white trim around the windows. Holiday lights have yet to be taken down and shine in all colors of the rainbow from the eaves as the camera crew walks up the front steps. The curtains in the window tremble for a moment, then a dog pokes her head through—she is all-black and curious, and looks quite large.

Dorcas Meadowes knocks on the front door; a moment later, it swings open and reveals Sirius Black. “Hey, guys, come on in! You can leave your shoes by the door inside.”

“Thanks, Sirius.” Dorcas kicks off her flats and follows him inside as he sets a dish towel on the end table and leans against it. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing pretty well. Morning practice was productive and I’m feeling good about our upcoming game.”

“We’re here today to ask you 73 rapid-fire questions while you lead us around. Sound good?”

“Sounds good. You can all come inside instead of freezing on the porch,” he laughs, waving them closer. The door shuts with a gentle click.

“First question: on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?”

“Hmmm. A solid seven.”

“Do you have any pets?”

“I do!” Sirius leads them into the other room, where the dog is curled up on the couch below the window; he picks her up and gives her a kiss on the head. “This is Hattie and I love her very much.”

“Cute! If you could do a dramatic love scene in a movie with anyone, who would it be?”

Sirius sets the dog down and thinks for a second. “Aside from my fiancé, I’m going to say James Potter. We would kill it and I don’t think it would be that awkward.”

“What’s the origin of your name?”

“Pretty much my whole family has star-themed names. Sirius is the dog star from Canis Major.”

“Brightest star in the sky, too. What’s one thing people don’t know about you?”

“I’m an introvert. Lots of people assume that I’m super social because of my job, but I’m very quiet in real life.” He walks back out to the entrance and takes the towel off the table, then moves into the kitchen. It’s well-lit and painted a deep, warm red. The countertop is scattered with knickknacks and picture frames—clearly, this is a place people spend a lot of time. Hattie, who followed them in, lays down by the oven with a heavy sigh.

“What’s your wakeup ritual?”

Sirius reaches up and pulls two mugs out of the cupboard. “I wake up around seven am and make coffee while Re is in the shower, then rinse off and get dressed while he makes breakfast. It’s a good system. Want some tea?”

“Sure. What’s your bedtime ritual?”

“I don’t think I have one,” he says as he puts the kettle on and ignites a burner on the stove. “Usually we read or watch a movie, then go up to bed and talk for a while. There’s not a big routine or anything.”

“Sounds nice. What’s your favorite time of day?” Dorcas sits on the other side of the kitchen island while he takes a box of peppermint tea down.

“That’s a tough one. I like the in-between spots, like just after sunrise or dusk. Three in the afternoon is usually pretty chill as well. Does anyone else want a cup?”

There are a few murmurs behind the camera and he takes two more down. “What is one thing no one knows about you?” Dorcas asks.

He raises an eyebrow. “If I told you, everyone would know, and it wouldn’t count.”

“Fair enough. Dream country to visit?”

“Anywhere. I think I want to go to Ireland first, though.” Small wisps of steam begin curling out of the kettle, but it doesn’t whistle.

“Do you ever feel pressure to post things on social media?”

Sirius makes a face. “I used to. Eventually I just got tired of it, you know? The whole point of social media is sharing bits of your life with people and it makes me happy to show off my dog, or Re, or my friends. I post things just for fun now.”

The kettle begins to hiss and he reaches back to turn it off. “Sneakers or skates?”

“Skates.”

“Vintage or new?

“Vintage, especially for t-shirts and sweaters.”

“Who is your biggest role model?”

“Pascal Dumais.” Sirius stops pouring for a moment to look up at the camera. “If you ever get a chance to meet him, listen to what he has to say. You’ll be better for it.”

“Wise words. How do you deal with negativity? Oh, thank you.” Dorcas wraps her hands around the mug and takes a small sip while Sirius passes the other ones to the crew.

“Honestly? I don’t give a shit. It used to really bother me, but I’m happy, I have a job I love, and my family cares about me. Why should I care what people I’ve never met think of me?” He sits on the counter and rests his elbows on his knees, blowing on the hot water.

“What are three things you can’t live without?”

“My dog, Remus, and my family.” There is no hesitation in his voice.

“Not hockey?”

“I’d be devastated if I couldn’t play, sure, but it’s not the central focus of my life anymore.”

“What’s one ingredient you put in everything?”

“Does salt count?” He winces as he takes a drink. “Ugh, burned my tongue. I put salt on a lot of things because I drink so much water that it throws my balance off.”

“What is something you’re completely bored of right now?”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Gossip columns and tabloids in general.”

Dorcas hums in agreement. “What’s your biggest fear in life?”

“Losing my loved ones.”

“Window or aisle seat?”

“Window. Anyone walking by always steps on my foot or hits my elbow if I’m in the aisle. Plus, I get a good view and an easy nap spot.”

“What’s your current TV obsession?”

“Avatar: The Last Airbender, which I’m watching for the third time already.” He shakes his head. “It’s just so good.”

“Favorite app?”

He takes a second to think. “Spotify.”

“Secret talent?”

Sirius looks at her over the rim over his cup. “This is going to shock you. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Hockey.”

“You’re the worst.” Despite her words, Dorcas smiles. “What the most adventurous thing you’ve done in your life?”

“Uh, probably going to Europe with some of the guys last year. We had a lot of fun, but it was crazy.”

“I can imagine it was. How would you define yourself in three words?”

“Tall, dark, and handsome.”

“And apparently not humble,” Dorcas teases. “Favorite piece of clothing?”

“Hoodies.”

“Clothing item everyone should have?”

“Hoodies.”

A door opens behind them and the camera turns; Remus walks out of the basement, covered in sweat as he wipes his forehead with the hem of his shirt and holds his skates in his other hand. “Baby, have you seen…” he trails off when he sees the group of people in the kitchen. Hattie’s tail thumps on the floor. “Um. Hello.”

“Hey, Remus, how are you doing?” Dorcas asks mildly.

The camera pans out to catch both Sirius, who is laughing quietly, and Remus, who flushes pink. “I’m good. I thought you were coming at ten?”

“It’s ten-thirty, sweetheart,” Sirius says, hiding his smile in his tea.

Remus glances at the clock before giving an awkward nod and walking toward the stairs. “I guess I’ll take a shower, then. Sorry about that. Uh, carry on.”

“What’s a superpower you would want?” Dorcas asks as soon as he disappears.

Sirius shakes his head with a grin. “Uh, teleportation. That would be really cool.”

“What’s inspiring you in life right now?”

“Ah, une grande question.” He thinks, then tilts his head toward the staircase. “Moments like that. And the Stanley Cup, of course.” He reaches back and knocks on the wooden cupboard.

“What cause is closest to your heart?”

“LGBT+ rights, especially trans rights. I’m privileged enough to have a platform and I intend to be loud as hell about that.”

“Good.” Dorcas sets her almost-empty mug on the table. “What’s one thing you’d say to your teenage self?”

Sirius lets out a long breath and drums his hands on the light blue ceramic of his cup. “I would say…it gets better. It really, really does. You’re going to feel super shitty for just a little bit longer, but then I promise you will be so incredibly happy that you wake up every morning and it hits you all over again.”

Dorcas nods, and the kitchen is quiet for a moment. “What’s a book that everyone should read?”

“The Hobbit, by J.R.R Tolkien.”

“What would you like to be remembered for?”

“This is going to sound so corny, but I want to be remembered for just being a good person.”

“That’s not corny. How do you define beauty?”

“Remus Lupin.”

“That’s corny,” she laughs, making him smile. “What do you love most about your body?”

“I’m a big guy, which can be a little bit intimidating, but it means I give really great hugs. I’m sure everyone saw the video that went around a while ago.”

“Cap Cuddles?”

He snorts. “Right. You’ve got Finn O’Hara to thank for that.”

“In your opinion, what’s the best way to take a rest or decompress?”

“Being alone,” Sirius says. “There is literally nothing better than getting home and sitting down with a book or something while I can hear Re doing his own thing and Hattie’s napping. It’s one of my favorite parts of the afternoon.”

“That’s the most introverted thing you’ve ever said.” Dorcas grins and finishes her tea just as a faint beeping noise begins in another room. “What’s your favorite way to experience art?”

“Through music, for sure.” He slides off the counter and walks down the hall, leading them toward the laundry room. He gives the camera crew a look as he pulls dry clothes out of the machine and heads back to the living room. “What? Did you think I didn’t do my own laundry?”

“You lost a sock,” Dorcas informs him, picking it off the ground and laying it on top of his head.

“Thanks, D.”

“What question do people ask that you wish they wouldn’t?”

“Lots of people have asked me when I decided to be gay, which is wrong on so many levels.”

“If you could master one instrument, what would it be?”

“Guitar or piano.” He dumps the load of laundry on the couch and opens the back door, holding it for the crew as they walk out into the sunshine. Hattie weaves through their legs and disappears into the bushes along the back.

“I might have to take your dog home with me. If you had a tattoo, where would it be?”

Sirius mock-glares at her. “Let me have my girl! Um, I would love to have a tattoo somewhere on my arm.”

“This might be a hard one. Dolphins or koalas?”

“Oh, that is hard. Probably dolphins. The ocean is terrifying but those little guys are just having a blast.”

“What’s the best gift you’ve ever received?” Dorcas asks as he picks up a tennis ball and throws it across the yard. Hattie emerges from the bushes and races after it in a blur of black fur.

“An engagement ring.”

“Yeah, it was.” Remus walks into the backyard and kisses Sirius’ cheek before bending down to catch Hattie in his arms. His hair is still damp from the shower. “Hello, sweet girl!”

“Who’s your favorite musician?”

“Queen.” Sirius laughs at her surprised look. “I’m gay, what did you expect?”

“True. What’s your favorite board game?”

“Monopoly.” Remus and Hattie disappear from the frame, but the bouncing sound of the tennis ball creates some background noise and Sirius watches them for a moment with pure affection.

“Favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“Least favorite color?”

“Orange.”

“Bowties or knot ties?”

He frowns. “Don’t they all have knots?”

“Smartass.”

“Yep! Uh, regular ties.”

“Bowties are superior!” Remus calls.

“Get your own questions!” Sirius laughs.

“Going off your music answers: records or CDs?”

“I don’t own a lot of records, so I’m going to have to go with CDs. I love the way vinyl sounds, though.” His eyes widen as he looks to the side. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Remus wheezes. “I didn’t need those ribs anyway.”

“For the viewers, the dog just football-tackled him into the grass,” Sirius says, and Dorcas snorts.

“Your hair is famously luscious. Blow-dry or air-dry?”

“Air dry.”

“Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, but tea is nice in the evenings.”

“What’s the weirdest word in the English language?”

Sirius laughs. “There are so many. Uh, ‘jeez’ is the one that comes to mind first.”

“What about the French language?”

“Oiseaux,” he says in a crisp accent. “It means ‘birds’, and you pronounce about three of the actual letters.”

“Good to know. Do you prefer dark chocolate or milk chocolate?”

“Dark chocolate.”

“Stairs or elevators?”

“Elevators. I don’t want to walk up three floors after playing hockey for two and a half hours.”

“Summer or winter?”

Sirius bites his lip in thought as they walk around the yard, where small flowers line the fence in beds and colorful pots. “I love summer because I have actual free time to be with my friends, but winter is hockey season. I don’t know, next question.”

“What’s a dessert you don’t like?”

“I’m not a huge fan of caramel. It’s too sticky.”

“A skill you’re working on mastering?”

“Will you ban me from more interviews if I say hockey?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, I’m working on keeping plants alive, as you can probably see.” He taps the nearest flowerpot gently with his foot; it has ‘Harry’ painted across it in sloppy blue letters. “My godson made that for my birthday.”

“What’s the best thing to happen to you today?”

“This, for sure,” he says with a smile. “I haven’t seen you and Marley in ages.”

“We missed you, too. What’s the worst thing that happened to you today?”

He pouts slightly. “Burning my tongue on tea.”

“Hugs or kisses?”

“Hugs! Though I’ll accept kisses from a few very specific people.”

“Do you have a favorite smell?”

He pauses and cranes his neck to look behind the cameras. “Re?”

“Yeah?”

“What shampoo do you use?”

“Uhhh…” There’s a moment of quiet. “It’s something with lavender, I think.”

Sirius turns back to Dorcas. “Something with lavender.”

“How specific,” she laughs. “What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?”

He smiles to himself. “There was a young woman, maybe sixteen or seventeen, that came to one of the games earlier this season. I saw her standing with a puck and went over, and while I was signing it she looks at me and says, ‘you are exactly what I wish my older brother was like’. Turns out, she was bisexual and her brother wasn’t super accepting of her. That was…” He shakes his head. “That meant the world to me. I’ll never forget it.”

“You’ve definitely made a big impact on the community,” Dorcas agrees. “What’s the last piece of content you consumed that made you cry?”

“I watched ‘Soul’ the other night and almost had to pause it at one point to pull myself together.”

“Do you prefer animated movies or live-action?”

“Animated, mostly because I wasn’t allowed to watch Disney movies as a kid, so I’ve been catching up as an adult and they rock.”

“What’s your nerdiest quality?

“I love watching documentaries.”

“Sweet or savory?” The back door creaks a bit as they walk back inside and the camera catches a few frames of Hattie and Remus running around the yard together.

“Sweet.”

“In ten years, you have a daughter. What age do you let her date?”

Sirius gives Dorcas a look. “Whenever she wants to. I’m going to impose curfews and stuff, but I’m the last person on the planet to police her love life.”

“Good answer. What’s a song you can listen to on repeat?”

“Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen. Absolute banger.”

“If you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be?”

“Arthur Weasley,” he says after a moment. “I would love to know what it feels like to get up in the morning and know you’re about to spend another day wrangling our team. It’s a miracle he hasn’t killed us all with his clipboard.”

“How do you know you’re in love?”

“Oh.” Sirius blinks at her in surprise at the sudden topic change. “Well, for me, I think it’s just…being comfortable around someone. Being able to spend time with them without saying anything and knowing you’re safe, no matter what. It’s the best feeling in the world.”

“What are you most excited about at this time in your life?”

A slight smile crinkles his eyes. “Getting married. That’s going to be awesome.”

“Who is your go-to for having a good laugh?”

“James Potter. He’s the best, and I love him.”

“Last question,” Dorcas says, sliding her list into her pocket. “Many LGBT+ people, especially teenagers, have spoken about how you’re an inspiration. Any words for them?”

Sirius hums in thought. “First of all, thank you for being so open and welcoming. I would never have expected the sheer force of people’s love to come through like that when so many people were saying horrible things. Second, to any kids out there who need to hear it: I’m proud of you. It takes a lot to be true to yourself and even if you’re still in the closet, you’re just as valid as the rest of us. Stay proud.”

“That’s a wrap.” Dorcas gives him a quick hug that he happily returns. “Thanks for letting us crash your morning, Cap.”

“Any time. Thanks for tuning in to Lion Pride, everyone!”

[anemonenemerosa]

The Spare - Chapter 12

Here we go! Thank you, @lumosinlove for the SW-verse!

Chapter 12

Out of precaution, Regulus decided to sneak into Malfoy Manor through the kitchen window. He scoffed at the thought that everyone always assumed he was a model son. Sure, he kept his head down, all appearances and he was once very eager to please his parents but that didn't mean he hadn't a rebellious streak.

Sirius often got caught trying to sneak out the house... through the back door... too obvious. Idiot. But he learned over time. Regulus, on the other hand, learned to pick locks and sneak out of windows quiet early on. It was much stealthier and more unsuspected from the obedient, quiet kid.

Around 16, Regulus did this very often, trying to live a little under the thumb of his parents and while pretending not to. Sirius was bold, brave and often getting shit for it. Regulus was collected and sneaky. His escapades went unnoticed. It was all about the right balance. He asked to go out often enough to be considered normal. His parents said no more often than not and Regulus just had to ask for events he was not really interested in. When they said no, he would obediently stay at home and just sneak out to the stuff he actually wanted to go to. Unsuspecting.

He went to several high school parties and concerts, albeit hating crowds, because that was what teenagers did right? What they enjoyed. Regulus did not enjoy the drinking, the stuffed rooms and the gross drunk make-out sessions. Maybe he was born as snarky old man, always been more of a Waldorf, in need for his Statler.

Once in his room, Regulus showered, changed and was just in time for Lucius to take him to practice.

The mood in locker the locker room was disgustingly cheerful. Several Death eaters were reciting their favourite slurs against Sirius and all the “faggots”, how they called queers, in general, accompanied by hollering, whistling and applause.

Regulus thought of Sirius, of Ben and Mateo, how kind and loving they treated him, and it took all his badly patched up self-control to keep his expression blank and polite. This is not right.

He did not return to the shire this evening. Instead, he spent a long time running in the neighbourhood of the Malfoys, trying to sort through the last days.

When he collapsed exhausted into bed this evening, he came to the conclusion that there was actually no way he could get through the mess in his very own… The psychologist-thing was meant as a joke at Thanksgiving, Black…

                                                    oOo

The next evening, he nervously rang the bell besides the name tag Hayes/Alves, not knowing whether someone is even at home but he was let into the building and a moment later he found himself unable to knock on the door to their flat. These people owed him noting, why would they even let him in again after he practically stormed out yesterday?

The door was yanked open anyway and a relieved looking Mateo pulled him inside. “There you are, we were worried!”

“What? Why?”

“You were rather upset when you bolted yesterday” Jo provided from the kitchen, a spoon in her mouth and an almost empty can of ice cream in her hands.

“Hey, there you are!” Ben chimed happily, stepping out of the bathroom in his pyjamas and towelling his hair.

“Are you guys mad?” Regulus blurted suddenly, “You don’t know me, I stormed out yesterday after all you have done like an ungrateful asshole and you are actually happy that I'm back?”

“Sure.” All three answered as one, baffling him completely.

“Why?” He was almost desperate, “You have absolutely no gain from me being here... I am just a rookie so no one will buy my secrets from you, I am rather rich but you have nothing to properly blackmail me so what do you want?!”

“Are you serious?” Jo asked after a short silence.

“No, that’s my Brother, I am Regulus.” he answered absentmindedly. Ben and Mateo snorted but Jo just looked puzzled.

Regulus looked back, similarly puzzled. “Sirius Black, the famous, freshly outed, Captain of the Gryffindor Lions?”

Still nothing but a furrowed brow... “NHL?”

'Yeah, yeah, heard of it but hold on, your full name is Regulus, like your real name? And your brother is, in fact, named Sirius, that’s not a fake, too?”

“That is your Question? And no, its Sirius Orion and Regulus Arcturus Black, actually.” Jo anything but shrieked, joining the other two hobbits already shaking with mirth by now.  

“Ok, that’s - that’s just bad, I'm sorry” she wheezed after a few minutes.

“I always thought these were aliases… I see that I need to revaluate my bad-name categories.”

“Alors, I call you Josephine from now on?” Regulus was met with a surprisingly deathly glare that sent Ben and Mateo straight into another fit.

A grin started to tuck at the corner of Regulus’ lips but there were still pressing questions.

“Jo, you have no idea of the disaster that went on? You didn’t even check Twitter?”

“Nah, I don’t frequent social media. While I prefer to limit my direct interaction with other people, assholes accumulate there and throw all their bullshit around, guarded by the anonymity of the internet. I think a dentist appointment is less annoying.” The grin tucked again. This weird mixture of slang and hoity-toity wording was just gold.

“But you do watch ice hockey?” He was not sure why that was important for him. Maybe to find out, what she knew about him, maybe because to find out more about her.

“Sometimes yeah. For me you are Reg, the rather giant dude that slept on our couch, that prefers his tea bitter and gross and does not say thank you. The guy with the enjoyable dry humour and good taste in literature that luckily balances his abysmal taste in movies.”

At that Regulus laughed, too. He didn’t know, why exactly but he felt giddy with the idea that these were the first people who wouldn’t define him through hockey and his family.  That although they knew of his profession, here was just Reg, not Regulus Arcturus Black, Son of Orion Black, number 72 of the Snakes. Maybe I can have this, after all.

Is this, what Sirius had with his team, with Remus? Another pang of guilt let the laughter die in his throat, his eyes welled up. Not again…please.

But there was no time to recompose himself. Quickly, he was shoved onto the couch, wrapped in the chicken-blanket and surrounded by these idiots caring for him for some reason he still did not understand.

For the third time, his walls broke. Where there even walls by now? Regulus felt rather leaking with emotions.

But of course, he could not keep it in around them and spilled all his life to the three of them, not in as much detail he told Mateo in the hospital but also not keeping his role of Sirius’ outing to himself. Once all was out, there was a tense silence... of course there was, he just told the gay couple in front of him that he forced his brother out to be tormented by a crowd of imbecile haters on the internet.

Regulus was sure, his little excursion into a happy family ended now. Just as he guessed on the first evening here but instead of scolding and disapproving, cold glares he found himself hugged by Ben, again. He gives good hugs; his brain supplied uselessly.

“It’s a shitty move to out someone Reg, there is nothing to sugar coat.” Ben sighed.

“But what they did with that information and how the people online reacted is not your fault.”

Regulus said nothing, just closed his eyes and buried deeper in the shoulder of Ben, who practically sat on his lap to reach the height for such an embrace.

“But your feelings were hurt, too at that time and a lot of people used you. Fuck your family. You know what, I’m your mom now!”

Regulus just continued crying silently into Ben’s Shoulder, Mateo’s hand rubbing slowly over his back, chuckling at Ben’s statement.

“Mother hen.”

This showed what he had suspected for a while now, proof that his parents were not just a little strict. That something in his childhood went horribly wrong and he has no idea what to do with that information except crying it out.

When he calmed down a bit, Ben and Mateo got up to make some tea and finish dinner while quietly talking in Portuguese. So, it was something he was not meant to understand. His stomach knotted uncomfortably.

“Reg?” Jo tried quietly, she had not reacted in any way so far. He had even forgotten that she was still perched on the carpet beside him and somehow, he dreaded what was to come next.

“Hm?”

“Earlier, at the door, as you said that you do not know of what use you are for us as we cannot even blackmail you... you were not joking?” He shook his head, new tears threating to well up. How were there still tears left and what happened to his composure again?

“You really expected us to just care for you as long as we could gain profit?” There was no accusation in her voice just sadness and concern. He shrugged his shoulders; did he think that? No, but this was the only form of interaction he knew, everything always came with a price, an expectation.

The next thing he felt was Jo not practically but literally perched on his lap, straddling his hips, wrapping her arms around him and leaning her cheek against his temple. He knew already that, opposite to her brother, Jo was not the touchy feely type with strangers.

He was not considered a stranger anymore, after a day?

“I don’t know if there is anything one could say to make it better, so I will just keep my mouth shut and hug you until you believe that we like you and care for you. Just like that. As long as it will take.” She wiggled a bit to demonstrate getting comfortable.

There was nothing sexual about the embrace although they were pressed together from shoulders to hips und she just wiggled in his lap. It was completely opposite to the girls that approached him at the parties he sneaked out to. These were eyeing him hungrily, like a trophy. Some of them (very drunk, to their defence) even told him how similar he looked to Sirius… and how sexy they found his brother. He shivered a bit at the memory and gladly went back to reality.

“You might die of old age while waiting.” Regulus lifted his head to check the effect of his attempt in humour on her face but she just tucked his head back, giving a soft huff.

“Nah. 'M convincing but probably need to excuse myself to the bathroom or the fridge in between”

He closed his eyes again, wrapped his arms around her waist and relished in the hug without questioning why this hug felt different, more intimate than Ben’s or Mateo’s.

After an undefinable amount of time, the men came back with plates of Vegetable Quesadillas and Guacamole.

“Comfort Food, my avozinha’s recipe.”, Mateo commented

Instead of answering his question for cutlery, Ben met his eyes, pointedly grabbed a Quesadilla, dipped it in the guacamole and shoved the whole thing in his mouth without breaking eye contact.

Reg snorted with laughter.

                                                oOo

Of course, Ben spilled more than just a little on his shirt.

While Ben and Jo were cleaning the dishes and Ben, Mateo came over with a fresh cup of tea.

“Hey” Reg lifted his head. “I’m talking now as your fried -or co-mom, apparently- that just happens to also have studied medicine” he nodded for Mateo to continue.

“You went through a lot. Not just lately. And you struggle to cope.” Alors, the poker face seems to be gone…

“I do not say that you are weak, you are not! But you might want to consider the help of a therapist to sort through your feelings and your past. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness, it is a sign of knowing your boundaries and taking care of yourself. I do not want to talk you into this, you need to want that for therapy to help. So, take you time to think about that, if you need. You can always come to us to talk but no one here is a therapist so we can only help you so far. OK? We are not disposing you to a shrink. Our door is open for you but you might want to have different type of help.”

Reg sat the in silence after this speech, hand running through his hair and rubbing his neck.

He had thought about that, more and more serious since Thanksgiving but hearing it and having the confirmation that he was welcome here …a thought formed in his brain, shortly followed by his usual determination.

"I want this to stop. I want to get better." He looked at Mateo and was met with his signature genuine, warm smile.

"You have a team therapist, don't you? It might be the fastest way to an appointment."

Reg grimaced at the thought of Dr. Slughorn. Generally well-meaning but when in doubt always humouring Riddle.

"I wouldn't trust him with taking the trash out." Regs grimace it met with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you want me to help you find someone else?" Mateo asked carefully and after a relieved nod from Reg, continued. "OK. Good, this is really good. Now for the next part."

Reg furrowed his brows

"Ben and I talked, and we want to offer you to stay here for a while after All Star, out of the clutches of your family. Of course, you have to go to practice and stuff but maybe it would be healthier for you to feel less controlled, less suffocated by them. We would find something else for you to sleep on than the couch, of course." Mateo joked.

Reg blinked at the guy in front of him in disbelieve.  Encore: What the hell? "You would do that? Let me stay?"

"Yep. We are your moms now, after all." Ben all but yelled over from the kitchen.

 This isn't a fever-trip. This is a dream, and I hope that I will not wake up too soon.

This night, he spent in Jos bed.  

"The couch is lumpy so we will share that bed. I'm not ruining my neck for you." Was her announcement before she marched off, Reg in tow.

He was led into the room, expecting a bedroom and was greeted with a little bureau.

"Erm..." Was all Reg could say.

"Well I only stay here during semester breaks so it's mor like a multi-purpose room." Jo seemed to miss the point entirely.

"But there is no bed?!"

She gave him an odd look and... folded a mattress out of the closet? "You've never seen a Murphy bed?"

"Obviously."

A little while later Reg squeezed himself beside Jo in the double bed. How does such a small person take up so much space?

“Won't it fold up in the night and swallow us whole?" The thought made him nervous, but he was greeted with the Hayes™ way of soothing. Bullying into feeling better.

“Not with your fat ass in here. Sleep or I send you back to the couch.”

They did not sleep for a long while.

Instead the talked a lot like on the first morning that felt like years ago although it has been just two days. In these days, his life was turned inside out, fortunately. He liked this version better.

The more they talked and bantered, the more Reg understood, that she really did not calculate her moves but just did what seemed the honest, right and fair choice… which is why she was horrible at the midnight chess match: Not thinking a few steps ahead and no intention of sacrificing figures or threatening enemy figures… irritating and endearing.

Also, she had quite a lot of very good burns but apologised every time afterwards. Hilarious... too nice for her devilish mind.

The next morning, he woke up around four, with Jo's back tucked against his side. He had slept about two hours, not able to sleep any longer anyway but he stayed in bed, secretly enjoying the feeling of a warm weight beside him.

Thoughts about his brother were still omnipresent in his mind but right now, other thinks demand his attention. Reg was pretty sure that he was falling for Jo.

He had had one or another crush in school but what he felt now was magnitudes stronger. Coming to think of it, his feelings about Ben and Mateo were also magnitudes stronger but... different. The idea of the girl he just met not being within an hour driving distance, once she returned to Boston, left a weight on his chest, accompanied by an unfamiliar longing.

But that was not the point... everything would be OK with that point. The point was, it's not the same as he heard all the other guys in school, in the locker room talk about girls… he didn't get off imagining her naked, or both of them having sex, he never thought that about anyone, actually, and was convinced the boys boasting about how they want to hit all these girls and how they got horny every time some girl with a too-short-to-be-comfortable skirt walk by, were just exaggerating… or were they not? Was there something he just didn't understand, hadn't experienced yet? It's not that he hadn't had sex before and it was nice enough, but he never quite understood why people would go absolutely nuts about this past-time exercise. It was basically wanking with extra steps.

Hell, Reg felt not even aroused by Jo's ass pressed to his thigh in her sleep but he was very sure that he wanted to hold her close, feel her skin under his hands, her body pressed to his, to kiss her and be definitely more than friends with her; And he had absolutely no idea how to explain this to her and still hope for a chance of dating her eventually... This was not what people were looking for in a partner, was it?

He groaned... was there nothing simple on this world for him?

But then again, Jo was different, that's why he liked her, she had this no-bullshit attitude that let her stomp on several feet regularly. She was the only person he knew that would most likely appreciate if he just spoke his mind about the situation and have a balanced, rational and decidedly calm discussion about their feelings. He silently laughed. The thought about such a conversation was ridiculous but fairly simple. Maybe this would be easier than he first thought. He was not sure on what terms they would end but the situation would be evaluated and free of misunderstandings at the end.

He would talk to her after All Star, after facing his brother and trying to... what?

                                                     oOo

Telling Lucius and Narcissa that he wanted to stay elsewhere for a few nights went smoother than expected. After a short call with his mother she agreed to give him a bit of freedom. After the outing, his parents seemed to be eager to keep Reg as the good son. So, Walburga was in kind of open for some little claims. Of course, she wanted to know where he was staying so he pretended to need alone-time after the shock of his brother's outing and booked a hotel room until All Star as cover. He was definitely not risking his Mother taking this very fragile attempt of escape away from him.

Reg quietly packed a bag with clothes to take with him directly from the airport after All Star and spent his waiting time at the airport on the phone with Mateo, looking for a therapist. He would meet Dr. Bones close to the Hospital, Mateo worked at, next Thursday.

The flight with Snape was horrible. Reg tried to keep his thought about Sirius at bay, not checking social media at all but Severus kept sneering about Queers in general and Sirius. He laid open all the information he could dig up out about Remus and even announced proudly, that he forwarded it all to the commentators of the red carpet

Oh… merde. C’est pourri! They are in for a shit-show.

But Reg would not have to opportunity to contact Sirius before that.

[dancingsparks]

If you love something, set it free

All @urfavpendeja ‘s fault, so no Drarry this time but gay hobbits.

Also on Ao3

Frodo watched Sam dance with Rosie. They made a beautiful couple, everyone said so. Sam looked stout as always, blond curls falling in his face as he twirled her around and laughed, loud and free. It wasn’t unusual to hear him laugh like that anymore, but Frodo still remembered the days when not even Sam could laugh. Thoughts like that always made him shudder, violently throwing him back into the blank, all-consuming darkness, made his shoulder wound ache and fill his heart with longing for something long destroyed. He searches, increasingly frantically, for the ring that should be on the chain around his neck but isn’t, that is gone, heart beating faster and faster, when Sam’s laugh startles him out of his panic.

He is back again, back in the Shire, surrounded by music and dance, back with Sam, dancing and laughing and living and being happy. And suddenly, it’s all too much. The music too loud, the hobbits too many, the air too warm. Frodo needed to get away, needed to breathe, needed Sam. But Sam is with Rosie, finally unburdened and living his own life. Frodo can’t take that from him, he won’t take it away.

He abruptly stood up, toppling over his drink and upsetting several hobbits, pushing down the rows before finally breaking free. The evening air was cold around him, chilling and clearing his head. He quickly started to walk, intending to put some distance between himself and the raucous activity of the feast. There was no need to ruin everyone else’s mood on such a splendid occasion.

His feet automatically took him up the little hill to the spot where he would sit with Sam, smoking and enjoying the company. It feels wrong without Sam, lonely and cold. Frodo stays anyway.

From up here, he could see down to the dance floor where Sam was still dancing, oblivious to his inner turmoil. Frodo told himself that he’s glad about that, that he’s happy for Sam. But he couldn’t deny he wished Sam were up here with him instead of down there with her. Frodo never thought it possible to miss someone who wasn’t actually gone this much. But for all that Sam was there physically, he was miles away emotionally. He would never love Frodo the way he loved him, and it was about time he accepted that. Sam would be with Rosie; they would marry and start a family and his friend would finally be happy.

It worried Frodo if he was being honest. He didn’t like thinking like that, but sometimes he couldn’t help it. He vividly imagined Sam, at his wedding day, with his children, growing old and fat, telling stories to anyone who would listen. It’s a glorious future, one Sam always wanted and deserved, one Frodo doesn’t exist in. Sam would focus all his time and efforts on Rosie, on the things and people that bring him joy. Frodo had brought him enough misery to last a lifetime by dragging him on that dreadful journey into the heart of pure evil.

Sam would be better off without him. He might be staying with Frodo for the moment, but he could feel that things were different now. Sam was lost in thought, thinking about Rosie no doubt, smiling at nothing and being happy. It wasn’t fair for Frodo to keep Sam from pursuing his heart, it’s a selfish and desperate thing to do, clinging to the last shreds of loyalty Sam felt toward him. He knew Sam would never leave him, would feel obligated to stay even if he’d much rather spend his time with someone else. But Frodo knows he, himself, would take it, greedy for anything he could get, consuming Sam’s time and keeping it all for himself, as if he hadn’t stolen enough of it yet.

And that is why he has to send him away. He has been selfish long enough, and now Sam should be allowed to live his life, follow his dreams and build a future. He deserved it, and Frodo was keeping him back. Sam may not see it that way, will definitely protest, but Frodo knew it. And because Sam, sweet loyal Sam, would never leave on his own, Frodo had to make this choice for him. He would be upset at first, but it’d better for him in the long run. Frodo had to believe that, had to cling to the image of Sam finally being happy.

He would send him away. Next thing tomorrow, he would finally set him free. Men had a saying, “If you love something, set it free.” Frodo loved Sam, with his whole being and since the beginning of time, so he would set him free.

He couldn’t be here to watch it, though, couldn’t silently observe Sam’s life unfold and bloom, couldn’t hear his laugh only from afar or stare at his vacant garden every day wishing Sam were there. No, he would have to leave. He would have to go far away, and never come back. Surely, it would get easier with time, the pain and heartache would dull over the years. He knew he would never forget Sam, would never stop loving him, but maybe someday, he would learn to live with only half his heart.

Gandalf’s words came back to him now. How he should accompany him to Valinor, to the Undying Lands, with Bilbo and the last of the elves. It would be an honour, he said, that it would be fitting for him as ring-bearer. He hadn’t thought he would accept, would leave the world he fought so hard for behind. But without Sam, there was nothing holding him here.

He wished Sam would get his happy ending with his whole heart, but Frodo simply couldn’t stand by and watch it with a smile on his face. It had been hard enough to be supportive so far, and he couldn’t do it for a lifetime. Sam would live his life, would be happy. And for him to be happy, he needed Frodo to smile. He couldn’t do that anymore, so Frodo would leave with Gandalf and Bilbo for Valinor. It was basic, logical reasoning, flawless except for the pain it would cause.

He didn’t remember the exact date, but the last ship would leave soon. He should tell Sam now; he owed him an explanation that wasn’t rushed and at the last possible moment. But not telling him now meant Frodo would get a few more days to stay close to him, to make him laugh and pretend they could stay like this forever. It also meant a few more days of forced smiles, though well worth it in the end.  

But here, engulfed by the darkness around him, no one could see his tears, so he let them fall freely. Frodo cried for the tomorrows that would never come, for the hurt expression Sam would surely have when he has to send him away, for the life of pronounced absence that waited for him.

This is how Sam found him, alone on their hill, head buried in his hands and sobs wrecking his body. Frodo noticed him too late, or he would have tried to stop the tears, put on a smile, and pretend. But he only noticed when Sam’s arms were around him, holding him tightly and pressing his face into his neck. Frodo wanted to protest, wanted to wipe away his tears and completely ignore his feelings, but Sam was so soft and smelled like heaven, safe and familiar. Before he consciously decided to, he relaxed into the hold and sobbed, wetting Sam’s clothes with his tears. Sam only made soothing noises, gently rubbing a hand down his back or petting his hair.

“Now, Mr. Frodo, what could possibly be wrong on a wonderful evening such as this? Who do I need to beat up?” Sam spoke gently, carefully, not wanting to upset Frodo again, but with such fierceness that he didn’t doubt for a second that he would do it. Even if he would much rather stay with Frodo, make sure he’s alright.

“Oh, Sam, my good Sam, there is nothing wrong, I promise. Just stay like that for a little longer, that is more than enough.” He knew he should get up, should distance himself and not make this harder than it already was. And he would, he would, if not for the pleasant rumble in Sam’s chest or the hand still playing with his hair. Frodo never wanted to move again, and at that moment, he didn’t have to. So, he snuggled closer.

“Keep talking, please?” It came out small, meek and unsure, but Sam just pressed a kiss on his head and started talking. Frodo couldn’t see him, as that would’ve required him to move his head, so he let Sam’s voice wash over him, raising and falling in waves, telling the tales of the stars.

“I will miss this the most, I think.” Frodo didn’t realise he had spoken until he felt Sam go still under him. It was only meant for himself, a quiet acknowledgment to what he was about to give up. But now Sam had heard, and it would be folly to believe Frodo could tell him anything but the truth. He could never lie to Sam.

“Miss it, Mr. Frodo? There’s no need to miss anything, we can do this all the time.” But he didn’t continue his story; he waited for Frodo to explain himself.

“I didn’t want to tell you yet, but I suppose now is as good a time as any.” He didn’t move away from Sam, treasuring the warmth as long as he still could, hiding. He took a deep breath, preparing for what he needed to do.

If you love something, set it free.

“I finished Bilbo’s book, you know. Wrote down every detail of our great adventure, every single time you saved my life or brought me hope when I wanted to give up. I wouldn’t have made it without you, Sam. I need you to remember that, to remember me.

“I am leaving, Sam. We set out to save the Shire, and save it we did, but I don’t belong here anymore. I have nothing to return to, nothing holding me. The elves offered to take me to Valinor with Gandalf and Bilbo. I will go with them, soon, and I won’t return.

“I would love to stay for your wedding, to watch your children grow up and see you grow old Sam, I really would. I understand if you are angry now, but I would beg you, my dear Sam, not to be. I don’t want to spend our last days together fighting.”

Frodo didn’t dare look up, couldn’t bear to see the anger, or worse, the hurt in Sam’s eyes. It was bad enough to feel how still he was, his hand tangled in his hair but not moving anymore, the rumbling of his voice no longer there. Frodo didn’t move either, didn’t want to break fragile last moment before he would be confronted with the grief he caused. But he had to stay strong, for Sam.

“You are making fun, Mr. Frodo. But I don’t think it’s funny, no, not funny at all.” Sam sounded odd, void of the usual passion and warmth. He kept talking though, quickly gaining vigour.

“You are not making sense, talking of my wedding and yet you not being there, how is that possible, I ask you? I would look a right fool, all alone with you gone. But I would never be angry if you didn’t want that. I just beg you not to leave, to not even joke about such horrible things. For, while I may never forget you, I can’t even think of living my whole life with nothing but the memory of you. I don’t intend to ever let you go.” Sam held him closer now, pressed their bodies together, and all but whispered the last part, soft and fierce. It broke Frodo’s heart all over again.

“Oh, Sam, don’t you know how much I want that, how I wish to never be parted from you? But even more than that, I want you to be happy! You have been loyal to me long enough, suffered more for me than I ever could have asked, I will not take your future from you as well. I won’t keep you from marrying Rosie just so you can stay with me, and yet you are far too stubborn for your own good, so I will leave. You are not failing me by following your heart Sam, not even if it leads you away from me.” Frodo was crying again, clinging to Sam against his every intention. Soon now, he would be gone forever. Who could blame him for savouring this last contact?

Suddenly, Sam was moving, gently cupping his face and tilting it up, and their eyes finally met. Frodo found none of the hurt and anger he had expected; instead, Sam smiled in that way of his he could never interpret, though he’d dedicated countless hours to analysing it. Again, he could just stare up at Sam in wide-eyed wonder.

“You had me scared for a second there, more scared than the combined forces of evil. But how could you not know? I always thought you knew and were doing me a kindness by not mentioning it. I love you, Frodo. With my whole heart and soul do I love you, and I will marry no one but you if you will have me.”

Frodo kept staring, brain desperately trying to process what he had just heard, though deep in his heart, he always knew. He broke out laughing, relieved and free, as happy as he hadn’t been in too long, and surged up, throwing his arms around Sam, toppling them both over with the sudden motion.

Neither of them minded. For a moment they were nothing more than two young and stupid hobbits again, fooling around without a care in the world. Frodo felt none of the usual nostalgia, though. Nothing could compare to this moment right here and now.

Laughter trailed off, and Frodo found himself lying under Sam, looking up at his smiling face. The crushing grief he felt just moments ago was forgotten, chased away by Sam’s earnest words and a happy smile. He looked lovely, face framed by the night sky, no star even half as beautiful as his eyes. His curls were a mess, thanks to their brief stumble, but they looked incredibly soft, and Frodo neither had the desire nor the ability to stop himself from reaching out. He twirled the locks around his finger, running his hand through Sam’s hair, brushing against his ears to see him shudder. Sam was fascinating, and Frodo intended to study his every reaction, every sound and movement. His eyes fell down to Sam’s lips, slightly parted and chapped, they shouldn’t be as alluring as they were. But then, Sam always had held a certain charm, something that made him irresistible to Frodo.

What wanted to make Frodo listen to him when he lectured him about eating or paying attention when he was raving on about his plants, now made him long for a kiss.

Sam was practically purring, eyes closed, and head softly pressed up against Frodo’s hands whenever he deemed the pressure was too low or the pause was too long. He would have been content doing this, dedicating his life to keeping the expression of bliss on Sam’s face, and it would have been a good life. But then his mouth captured Frodo’s attention, casting the charm and shifting his focus.

Frodo gently pulled Sam down, closer to him, until their lips could almost touch and they breathed the same air. This close he could count Sam’s freckles, even in the darkness. He had always loved them, wanted to memorise every single one of them, wanted to connect and trace them. Slowly Frodo slid one hand from his hair, rested it against his face, and thumbed over the freckles on his cheekbones. Sam’s eyes stayed open this time, watching as Frodo cupped his face with both his hands.

He could hardly remember how he ever thought he could let Sam go. “If you love it, set it free” that’s what they say. Suddenly he remembers, the saying doesn’t end there.

If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours.

Frodo preferred it this way. He smiled up at Sam, meeting his eyes, and found the same unspoken desires reflected in them.

“May I kiss you, my dear, lovely Sam?”  

[pinkpuffballdude]

WELL ALRIGHT THEN @shsltxt @siverwrites

A: Aptitude 1. what are your oc’s natural abilities, things they’ve been doing since young?

Celestia became a theif when she was uhhh really young, so she’s good at sleight of hand, but she’s always had a natural aptitude for talking people down.

2. what activities have they participated in?

Quite a lot? I’m not quite sure what this question is trying to go for, but I think “talking down a mob” and “convincing her party that her friend wasn’t the werewolf, no sir” would go up here.

3. what abilities do they have that they’ve worked for?

She had to learn to play the flute, and she had to train to get as good as she is at diplomacy 

4. what things are they bad at?

I haven’t got her stat block on me, but I’m pretty sure she’s bad a something

5. what is their most impressive talent?

Diplomacy.

B: Basics 1. what is their hair color?

Dirty blonde

2. what is their eye color?

A sort of golden-brown color, almost like hazel? but without the green

3. how tall are they?

3′2″

4. how old are they?

She’s young, equivalent to about nineteen or twenty or so

5. how much do they weigh?

Again, no stat block D:

C: Comfort 1. how do they sit in a chair?

Oh, she sprawls, definitely. 

2. in what position do they sleep?

She is most comfortable spread out on the bed, limbs everywhere

3. what is their ideal comfort day?

Probably doing some sort of concert for her friends. 

4. what is their major comfort food? why?

This one Specific City’s street food, cause that’s what she’d go out with her chosen family and eat whenever they could (mostly after a successful heist) 

5. who is the best at comforting them when down?

........... I really want to say Thela, but I don’t actually know. I feel like she’d put on this cocky, confident facade and wouldn’t let people know when she felt down. Probably herself, then.

D: Decoration 1. how would they decorate a house if they had one under their name?

Hobbit hole, like Bag End in the movies. 

2. how would they decorate their child’s room?

Lots of natural colors, browns and greens, wood, probably a mural or two. 

3. how do they decorate their own room?

Maps and leaves, for a bit of color and scouting places out. 

4. what type of clothes and accessories do they wear?

Most of her clothing is pretty utilitarian, but I think she’d keep a coin or smth on a piece of string for luck. 

5. do they like makeup/nail/beauty trends?

nah

E: External Personality 1. does the way they do things portray their internal personality?

I don’t think of her as much of an open book, no. Well, for her positive feelings, yes, she is, but not her more negative feelings. 

2. do they do things that conform to the norm?

Not on purpose, unless it’s for a disguise. 

3. do they follow trends or do their own thing?

I think she’d do her own thing, for the most part. If she spies something she likes the look of that just so happens to be in season, well, so be it.

4. are they up-to-date on the internet fads?

on what

5. do they portray their personality intentionally or let people figure it out on their own?

Diy my dudes, figure it out on your lonesome.

F: Fun 1. what do they do for fun?

Dumb jokes and hang out sessions. Alone, it’d be writing music/playing old favorites and plotting out her next move, be that a heist or a gag.

2. what is their ideal party?

My first thought was adventuring party, BUT UH I think it’d be something bright and colorful with loud happy music and tasty but not fancy food. 

3. who would they have the most fun with?

Thela.

4. can they have fun while conforming to rules?

Ooo, that’s an interesting question. Yes? Y-es, I think she can. She’ll figure something out. 

5. do they go out a lot?

all the time :)

G: Gorgeous 1. what is their most attractive external feature?

(why are you asking me this) Hair, possibly? I imagine it as being shiny and pretty, so. 

2. what is the most attractive part of their personality?

Dumb jokes. Jokes in general. 

3. what benefits come with being their friend?

You will never lose an argument against another party again.

4. what parts of them do they like and dislike?

She’s very proud of her ability to avoid conflict, or at least resolve it without violence, but she’s also pretty quick to anger, and she doesn’t like that. 

5. what parts of others do they envy?

Okay so 1) height, 2) the ability to stop thinking for a little while. 

H: Heat 1. do they rather a hot or cold room?

She likes being warm, so a hot room

2. do they prefer summer or winter?

Summerrrrrr, it’s pretty and WARM

3. do they like the snow?

It’s okay. You can make snowballs out of it though.

4. do they have a favorite summer activity?

Hiking

5. do they have a favorite winter activity?

Snowball fights

I: In-the-closet 1. what is their sexuality?

This ends up being a very very complicated question, because on one hand I am Very AroAce and Can Fucking Not roleplay romance in any way shape or form and am therefore very tempted to say aroace, but on the other I highkey ship her with one of my friends characters (it’s mutual, it’s fantastic) so I really want her to be gay or bi or smth. I’ll go with Probably Demi

2. have they ever questioned their sexuality?

nah, she’s chill with w/e happens

3. have they ever questioned their gender?

I don’t think she would, as gender roles (or gender, period, really) have never been that big a thing in her life? She goes out in pants and studded leather and braids her hair and has never once been told that she’s any less for any of it. So I don’t think she has. 

4. would/was their family be okay with them being LGBT?

Yes. They were.

5. how long would/did it take for them to come out?

It wasn’t really a thing she thought about? None of her family made a big deal of not conforming (they were street rats, they already didn’t conform so who cared) so she just. Answered when asked.  As for her party, they never asked (I don’t think) and she never volunteered the information. It didn’t seem important.

J: Joy 1. what makes them happy?

Her friends, and figuring out puzzles. 

2. who makes them happy?

Again, friends, but mostly Thela. 

3. are there any songs that bring them joy?

So there’s this one song that she always plays after a successful heist that she’s always played after a successful heist and while it was kind of bittersweet for a while there it’s a part of her life and her friends lives and it’s still a celebratory thing for her. 

4. are they happy often?

Yeah. 

5. what brings them the most joy in the world?

So she’s like Mr. Von Lipwig in that she feels the most alive when she’s duping some poor sod, or when she’s done the deed and Won, so when she’s winning. 

K: Kill 1. have they ever thought about suicide?

Hm. Yeah. Probably between her family’s arrest and Professor Lorrimor, I’d say. 

2. have they ever thought about homicide?

Oh absolutely. 

3. if they could kill anyone without punishment, would they? who?

She’s not really got anyone on her blacklist rn, excepting the rat who sold out her previous family. She doesn’t know who that is though. 

4. who would miss them if they died?

uhhhhhhhhhhh I can’t really speak for them but I think the party would???

5. who would be happy they died, anyone?

Probably the Whispering Way, idk. 

L: Lemons 1. what is their favorite fruit?

Fantasy Hobbit Peaches

2. what is their least favorite fruit?

She’s never met a banana before in her life, but I don’t like them So Neither Does She

3. are there any foods they hate?

Travel rations suck. The hard tack and the dry meats and the salt and ugh

4. do they have any food intolerances?

I don’t think she would, no

5. what is their favorite food?

A honey-drizzled cake thing

M: Maternal 1. would they want a daughter or a son?

Indifferent, either is Good

2. how many children do they want?

None, really. Adoption is good though, then it’s however many.

3. would they be a good parent?

Possibly? She’d make a cool aunt though

4. what would they name a son? what would they name a daughter?

ohgodIhaven’tthoughtaboutthis uhhhhhh Samuel and Cinthia. Yes.

5. would they adopt?

Absolutely.

N: Never Have I Ever 1. what would they never do?

I’m still on an illegal things stint so my first thought was uhhhh bad, but a non-bad thing she’d never do would probably be..... pass up an opportunity to eat. Never know when the next meals gonna be

2. what have they never done that they want to do?

I don’t think she’s ever slept in a bed that was hers. So that.

3. is there anything they absolutely can’t believe people do?

Destroy others for the sake of it. 

4. what is the most embarrassing thing they’ve done?

When she was first trying to figure out how to talk to people her flirting game was atrocious. 

5. have they done anything they thought they’d never do?

She left that city. 

O: Optimism 1. are they optimistic or pessimistic?

She tries really really hard to be an optimist. 

2. are they openly optimistic, throwing it on others?

She doesn’t shove it down people’s throats, but she’s not shy about it either. 

3. are they good at giving advice?

Yes.

4. is there anyone in their life that throws optimism on them?

There was, at one point, but not anymore.

5. were they always optimistic?

No.

P: Personality 1. what is their best personality trait?

Strong morals (but fuck rules)

2. what is their worst personality trait?

Rules what rules OR impulsive

3. what of their personality do others love?

Hmmm, I wanna say bubbly, though I’m not sure on that one. Humorous, I think.

4. what of their personality do others envy?

Man, I don’t know. The aforementioned relentless optimism? 

5. do they hate anything about their personality/about other’s personalities?

Impulsive, quick to anger, and she hates people who just don’t care. She cannot stand them.

Q: Questions 1. do they ask for help?

From the people she trusts absolutely, yes. Anyone else, maybe. It’s a coin flip though.

2. do they ask questions in class?

in what

3. do they answer questions that make them a little uncomfortable?

Not usually. 

4. do they ask weird questions?

I don’t think they’re weird.

5. are they curious?

Definitely.

R: Rules 1. do they follow rules?

When it suits her.

2. would they be a strict or laid-back parent?

Laid-back, but with a lesson and explaination on how to Not Die or get hurt. So it’d be rules heavy but in a rules of the world way, not My House My Rules way.

3. have they ever been consequenced for breaking a rule?

She was a thief for years, yeah she’s experienced consequences. 

4. have they broken any rules they now regret breaking?

Nah. All of it was justified. 

5. do they find any rules they/others follow absolutely ridiculous?

Probably. I don’t know all the laws of our campains world off the top of my head, so I can’t think of any, but there’s gotta be something in there 

S: Streets 1. are they street-smart?

Yes.

2. would they give money to someone on the streets?

If she had the extra change, yes.

3. have they ever gotten in a fight on the streets?

No, I don’t think she has. She’s run away from people, but I don’t think she’s fought people in broad daylight. 

4. has anything happened to them on the streets?

She lived there for a while, so yes.

5. are they cautious when out?

As cautious as she can be while still appearing nonchalant. 

T: Truth 1. are they honest?

Ah ha, no.

2. can they tell if someone is lying?

I think she’s got a good Sense Motive, so yes.

3. is it obvious when they’re lying?

Absolutely not.

4. have they lied about anything they regret lying about?

I don’t think she has. Not during our campaign, at least. 

5. have they told truths that have been spread against their will?

Probably. It’s statistically likely, though I don’t think any of them have gotten back to her.

U: Underdog 1. have they been bullied?

No.

2. have they bullied anyone?

No.

3. have they been physically attacked by a bully?

Nah, no bullies to attack.

4. have they ever been doubted?

Not on anything important

5. have they surprised people with being good at something?

Not that I know of, no.

V: Vomit 1. do they vomit often?

Wow, gross, no.

2. do they get lots of stomach aches?

I don’t know how she would, no.

3. are they good at comforting someone ill?

+16 diplomacy will do that for you, yes.

4. what do they like as far as comfort goes?

Backrubs and murmuring 

5. do they burp, cough, or hiccup most when nauseous? when vomiting?

Nothing when nauseous or vomiting. Genuinely don’t know what this means. 

W: Water 1. do they drink enough water?

She tries to!

2. have they learned to swim?

I think she’s got a positive modifier on that....

3. do they like to swim?

Not particularly. 

4. can they dive?

Not off a diving board, if that’s what you’re asking. 

5. can they swim without holding their nose?

Yeah, she can. 

X: Xylophone 1. what is their favorite genre of music?

Folk! It’s happy and easy to dance to and sing along with

2. do they have a favorite song?

See above ^ (like way above)

3. do they have a favorite band/artist/singer?

Okay so like there was this one guy who played on this one street corner for years��and she’s go there everyday to see if he’d come round to play and he was the best violinist she’d ever heard and she was so disappointed when he stopped showing up 

4. can they sing well?

She doesn’t do it often, but yes.

5. can they rap?

can she what

Y: You 1. how old were you when you created them?

Nine or ten, yeesh

2. what inspired you to create them?

I needed a character for our campaign (I got her name from Blink, the Doctor Who episode, and just a random name I thought was pretty)

3. were they different when they were first created?

Absolutely, she used to be just a straight (ha) self insert and now she’s not

4. do you enjoy writing them more than other characters?

Playing, but, yeah, I think so. 

5. what’s your favorite thing about them?

+16 diplomacy baby!

Z: Zebra 1. what’s their favorite animal?

Her dogssssss

2. do they like animals?

She loves them!

3. cats or dogs?

Dogs!

4. what’s their dream pet?

A Huge Fuck Off Wolf

5. do they have any pets at the moment?

A wolf and a riding dog (she’s so tiny..... )

Thank you for asking!!

[imnotasuperhero]

There’s a spark in your eyes so rare (and I just know there ain’t time to lose) - MITCHSEN

A quick something I did for @mitchsentrash Hope you liked my little surprise?

Beca just wanted to throw every item she got at hand at the blonde woman in front of her. There was no way she'd let her take away the only threat that made her happy. Not after the disastrous week, she had at work.

"Please don't take it away" Beca pleaded with the best puppy face that she could manage.

"Excuse me? Why shouldn't I?" the good-looking woman frowned at her.

"I'm begging you. Please... Let me get it. It's the last box and I'm craving for a little happiness" the brunette was running out of cards. She never had to beg, so she was kind of losing badly.

"You realize it's just-"

"Listen here, Blondie" Beca had enough of this nonsense. Her stamina was critical by now. "I had a nightmare of a week and I'm about to explode if I don't get those fucking chocolates. So please, give them to me" her voice descended an octave as she could feel the anger bubble inside of her.

"Firstly," the taller woman started to count with her fingers. "What makes you think that my reason isn't better than yours? And secondly, I don't give a fuck about you tearing this whole shop apart. Not that you could since you're a Hobbit" the look she gave her was enough for Beca to almost snap at her.

Aubrey, on the other hand, found herself quite enjoying the moment. It wasn't every day that she got to play with a cute female. The brunette had this alt-girl look that somehow, someway, she knew could be an exciting chaos in her life. Not that she was already imagining her life with her, not at all.

"What did you call me?!" the brunette looked like an upset Chihuahua. She was barely 5"3' and her attempt to seem taller was something funny to witness. She even had to bit the inside of her cheek to stop the laugh that wanted to be released.

"Hobbit" she repeated herself just for fun. And oh God did she loved to mess with this cute woman. "You're a Hobbit, sweetie"

"What the fuck, dude? I'm trying to be polite and you just insult me?" and Aubrey would be lying if she didn't feel her stomach churn at the heavy navy blues that could make a hole through her skull if the stranger put just a little more of effort.

"Oh honey, I didn't mean it as an insult. You're just way too cute when you're angry that I couldn't help it" she didn't know where the words came from but she was glad because the woman in front of her just froze in time.  Mouth agape and eyes wide open. Oh shit, she could get lost in those stormy orbs and she was sure she wouldn't care if she died in them.

How the fuck did she ended flirting with this precious specimen in front of her when she had someone to take care of? If she was doubting before, she just got the affirmation that she was gay. Like... extremely gay.

"I hope you get a stomachache" and she knew she didn't want to miss this person.

"Wait!" she stopped her grabbing her wrist. "I'm sorry, I really am. Could you accept me a coffee?" and she never felt this nervous before.

"You made fun of me and now you ask me on a coffee date?" the brunette's face was now a poem. She wished she had her camera right there to immortalize the moment. Nope, she was already screwed without even knowing her.

"I'm Aubrey" she extended her hand -it was the least she could do- and smiled when this woman shook it softly with a hint of a smirk. "I need these chocolates to my best friend. They're her favorites when she feels sad" she explained herself.

"I bet it doesn't happen often?" she questioned almost as a matter of fact. "I mean, everybody has like a huge compartment where they store all their favorite threats" she continued.

"But you don't. And I don't want to sound rude, but you don't really scream happiness" Aubrey was glad the brunette agreed with a simple nod.

"Work is a huge pain in my ass lately and I rarely get the time to do grocery"

"Ugh. Adulthood isn't that cool anymore" she understood what was like to be trapped in work. Being a lawyer wasn't something that gave you much free time.

Beca was starting to like this day, after all. Maybe she could sort what the blonde's matter was. All she had to do was to accept. Just a 'yes' and her days could be a little better if this blonde - Aubrey, was a regular thing in her life.

"I'd like to get that coffee with you" she accepted with a smile. And oh boy, she was a sucker for that megawatt smile Aubrey gave her.

"Really? That's awesome" she extended then the box of chocolates, something that confused her.

"Aren't them for your friend?" and again, she was a puddle at the sweet smile that appeared on the blonde's face.

"I could always get her ice cream. It'll work too" she laughed softly. "I can't take you on that date now, so I hope these improve your mood" oh sweet baby Jesus, Beca felt her legs trembling. Did she really care for her?

"Thanks..." it was all she could mouth out. "I don't know what to say" she hoped for her blush not to be so notorious.

"You could give me your number and your name and we'll be good" Aubrey extended her phone. Their fingers touched for a brief moment but it was enough to make her shiver.

"I'm Beca," she said with a smile as she quickly entered her number. Fingers tapping here and there to do so and she had to fight back the urge to pry the blonde's phone. "Hit me up so I can get your number too" she then returned the phone. "I'm glad I didn't hit you with the box of cereal before" of course she wanted to play that too so she left a very confused Aubrey behind as she hugged her beloved box of chocolates. Not looking back because she knew she couldn't help herself.

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #462

Top Ten Things That Hopefully Will Actually Happen in 2021

I mean, it’s got to be better than last year, hasn’t it? Just on law of averages. I know it’s not really the greatest start. Everything’s shut again but it’s colder now. We’ve not got a handle on this thing. The idiots are still in charge. But I still feel cautiously optimistic. There is a vaccine now, at least. Trump is gone, barring some cataclysmic last-minute kerfuffle. A new lockdown is required, so hopefully however painful it is right now it’ll be the death throws of this wretched virus. Will 2021 look like 2019? No, not a chance. But maybe by summer, by autumn, we’ll be well over the hill. 2022, hopefully, will be great.

Not that I’m writing off the new year altogether! No siree. I think this is the year we turn the corner and see the road before us. I think this year can be good, and I think that – outside of pandemic and politics – there is quite a lot to look forward to.

I’m not right now talking about personal ambitions or wider, geopolitical hopes and dreams. This is all about stuff that I want to see or play or whatever. Things that don’t really have any bearing on if the world keeps spinning or we all make it through another tumultuous twelvemonth relatively unscathed. Just, y’know, stuff that’d be nice.

Cinematic Superheroes: 2020 was a bonkers year, and one of the things that was bonkers as it unfolded was how all these huge movies kept getting pushed back. As a result, there were precisely no Marvel Cinematic Universe productions released. Like, at all. Thankfully – hopefully – that will change in 2021. As well as some Disney+ stuff (see below) there’ll also be the belated release of Wonder Woman 1984, which came out around Christmas but which I’ll probably stream this month; and, lockdown permitting, we should finally see the likes of Black Widow, The Eternals, and things that were already scheduled for ’21 such as DC’s The Batman and The Suicide Squad. And y’know what? I’m even looking forward to Zack Snyder’s Justice League. Yeah, maybe some more will slip, but I’m just glad that we’re finally getting some men in tights back in our lives.

Plus all these Great Shows: just before Christmas Disney outlined its slate of upcoming releases and by Crikey it was mega. And the best part is, so many of these shows and films are imminent! In a couple of weeks WandaVision will hit Disney+, and later this year we’ll also see (I do believe) The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, maybe Loki, The Book of Boba Fett, and maaaaaybe if we’re lucky Obi-Wan Kenobi. Even outside of the other movies and things that they announced, and even if we don’t look as far ahead as 2022, Disney+ has a hell of a lineup for this year, and even if lockdown closes the cinemas, we can still enjoy a nice good stream.

Starred Up: the arrival of Star, the “grown-up” channel on Disney+, was confirmed (and confirmed to be included in the existing sub, which was nice), and recently it was announced that it will go live on February 23rd. For some reason I was expecting it later, so that’s nice. It’ll be good to see some of the smuttier Marvel movies make their return (especially Fox’s X-masterpiece, Logan), but I’m more looking forward to having all the Die Hards and Aliens in one place. Even the crap ones.

Finally, Halo Infinite: I really like Halo; it’s pretty much the reason I ever bought a console in the first place. So I was incredibly excited for Halo Infinite, and – I must confess – a bit disappointed by its reveal. A delay is fine; take your time, do a good job, try to avoid crunch. I’ve got more than enough to play. But with my pretty new Series X installed next to my shiny new 4K TV, I’d love to get into a proper new Master Chief adventure once again. And finally it’ll happen! My Big Christmas Game for 2021 is sorted.

Return of the (Lego) Jedi: speaking of Big Games for 2021… I love the Lego games from Traveller’s Tales, and it all started with Lego Star Wars. With the release of The Rise of Skywalker in 2019, I kind of assumed they’d be making a new one, and they are: The Skywalker Saga. Much delayed (I think it was meant to come out last summer originally?), but finally making its debut at some point in 2021, it promises to be a more expansive effort than any previous Lego game, and also offers a fresh look at every film in the increasingly-inaccurately-named trilogy. My youngest is really getting into Star Wars and she loves the Lego games, so this is something we can really enjoy together.

2020’s Greatest Hits: yeah, lots of great things coming out in 2021, but I gotta say one thing I’m really looking forward to is catching up on all of the things that were supposed to come out in 2020. I’ve already mentioned the likes of Black Widow, but there’s Coming 2 America (on Prime Video in March), Dune (potentially still hitting cinemas), No Time to Die (God knows), Spielberg’s West Side Story (delayed a whole year!)… even smaller-scale things like the cool-looking Freaky have been pushed right back. And whilst I’m not exactly looking forward to it, pity poor Peter Rabbit 2, knocked from an early Easter slot when the first lockdown hit, only to have its February half-term run destroyed by Lockdown III. Maybe next year, eh, Peter?

Matrix of Leadership: The Matrix turns 22 this year, shockingly enough, and last time I watched it was still absolutely brilliant in one of those hardly-ever-happens ways. The sequels I could live without, although I’ll warrant they’re still stylish with nice action, but they were a huge disappointment (moreso for me than the often-lambasted Star Wars prequels). However, I am super excited for Lana Wachowski returning to direct a fourth Matrix movie. I don’t know why, but I just think it’ll be great; there’s twenty years’ worth of “internet stuff” and “games stuff” and “comics stuff” she can use as reference or in-joke, and let’s face it, Keanu Reeves has never kicked as much ass in his life as he does in the John Wick movies, so we don’t need to worry about that. What the hell will it be about? How can you make a sequel to what felt like a pretty definitive ending? I mean, half the characters died (spoiler!). But I don’t care about that, I just want to see it (hopefully at a cinema).

One (Other) Ring to Rule Them All: I ended up spending quite a bit of time in Middle-Earth in 2020, including reading The Hobbit to my girls, Unfinished Tales, and Ian Nathan’s book about the making of Peter Jackson’s trilogy, Anything You Can Imagine. So I am, shall we say, primed for Amazon’s new TV adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s opus. The Lord of the Rings series – as I think it might still be called? – will be set a lot earlier than the more famous stories, and although there are a lot of potential hiccups and hurdles in the way, I hope the less-familiar period and setting will offer scope for a series to make its own unexpected journey, showing even those that have read The Silmarillion something they’ve not seen before. I hope they don’t try to make it into Game of Thrones, and I hope they don’t try to shoehorn in too many aspects of The Lord of the Rings (I mean, hobbits shouldn’t really feature too much into it, surely?), but the pedigree is strong and I’m very excited.

Sinful: Russell T. Davies’ last show, Years and Years, was a fascinating combination of terrifying apocalyptic sci-fi and domestic soap opera, and one of the best things that happened in 2019. His next show, It’s a Sin, is about something altogether more real but still apocalyptic: the AIDS crisis in the gay community of the 1980s. I imagine he’ll still be expertly combining soapy drama with casual gaggery and moments of utter heartbreak. Apparently this is a story very close to his heart that he’s been wanting to tell for – yes – years and years, so it’s sure to be one of the TV highlights of 2021.

The Unconfirmed: one of the great things at the start of the year is, you don’t know what you’re going to get. Sometimes you get, well, 2020. But sometimes you don’t! Sometimes you get a year in film like 1984 (Terminator! Ghostbusters! Gremlins!) or 1999 (Matrix! Fight Club! American Beauty!); sometimes you get a year in gaming like 1998 (Half-Life! Zelda! Grim Fandango!) or 2007 (Halo! BioShock! Crackdown!). What’s coming this year? Well, with the new consoles out, we’re going to finally start seeing some new games that wrestle with the hardware; not just the cross-generational likes of Halo or Horizon but some new games, some unannounced games. We’ll also, no doubt, see proper footage and trailers for stuff we do know – Hellblade, Fable, hopefully Perfect Dark. Taika Waititi’s got at least two films on the go; that’ll be good. Spielberg doesn’t usually rest on his laurels; he’s finished West Side Story, so what’s next? Bond will come out, somewhere, somehow; will we get the announcement of a new Bond? Speaking of recasting, is Jodie Whittaker really leaving Doctor Who? I’ve not been too fussed with the show the last couple of years, but I’m always rooting for her and will be sad to see her go; but does that mean we’re in for another New Doctor palaver later this year too? Will we see or hear anything of Rian Johnson’s Star Wars films or, even better, a Knives Out sequel? The new Stranger Things has got to be this year, hasn’t it? What about Star Trek – Picard season 2 and Discovery season 4 should be happening, but will we also see the Pike and Georgiou-focussed spin-offs? God knows! It’s all up in the air! And these are only the things that we know or can speculate a little bit about! But that’s what makes it so exciting.

Well, that’s it for now. As I write this, what can only be called a mob of white supremacist terrorists – idiot insurrectionists, if you will – have stormed the US Capitol. Truly terrifying scenes, given the added worry of the Twat in Chief using the crisis as some phony excuse to cling on to power. I have faith that it’ll be resolved, short-term, and that democracy – capital-D Democracy – will endure, for now. But it just goes to show how volatile everything is. The kids are being homeschooled again. London’s hospitals are teetering on the brink. There’s gunfire in the Senate. But the first Black Senator just got elected in Georgia. My wife’s playing Ooblets. Somewhere it’s sunny, somewhere else a kid’s catching snowflakes, and somewhere else again some lucky sod is getting to watch Nine to Five for the first time ever. Things are scary and often crap but on the whole I think the arc of the universe tilts ever so slightly towards Being Generally Okay.

Take care of yourselves, wear a bloody mask, and here’s to 2021 Being Generally Okay.

[ispeakforthetreesandthings]

A holistic essay on Dirk Gently

Do you like Sherlock but are you tired of all of Sherlock’s annoying ass brooding and the damn aggressive queer bating?

Do you like supernatural but are you ready for it to die and hate the fact that the creators are unwilling to acknowledge the fact that two characters of the same sex have any sort of chemistry, romantic or otherwise?

Do you like Doctor Who but really miss 1) the goofy buddy comedy feel of Tennant days 2) the ability to be simultaneously heavy and vulnerable and 3) wonder why it doesn’t have more Frodo Baggins?

I PRESENT TO YOU: DIRK GENTLY’S HOLISTIC DETECTIVE AGENCY

A show that follows a character with the detective skills of Sherlock Holmes without the annoying as fuck attitude, the si-fi emersion of the Doctor without the genocide, and the monster experience of Sam and Dean but without any of the capability to protect himself and others. A brave and yet surprisingly incapable detective, Dork Gentle breaks into a rando hobbits house and makes him go on adventures because the universe demands it. Frodo and dork are accompanied by Frodo’s sister, Drummer Girl who is all kinds of messed up, Farrah Badass, an assassin and closet freak, some dog or something I don’t fucking know, a nice side plot about a mass murder and her hostage bestie, and all four parts of the Rowdy Three, which is a group that has more diversity in it than the rest of television combined. Throw in funny writing, good acting, well placed and subtle comedy as well as a conspiracy subplot, this show will give you so many questions that your brain might actually explode. But don’t worry, the characters don’t know what the fuck is happening either!

This show will open an unfollowable amount of story lines in the first episode, tie them all up neatly and somehow satisfyingly in the last episode, just to shoot your happy ending in the brain and fuck the hole in the last two fucking minutes.

And truly pure and beautiful show that deserves your viewership!

Also, as of now, there are only 8 episodes, so you can catch up before season 2 in October. Also also, as of now, there are a ton of possible queer relationships in the show and that’s right, I used the word possible because somehow in this universe THEY ARE!!! THE CREATOR HAS CONFIRMED THAT NOT ONLY WILL THE MAIN CHARACTER’S SEXUALITY BE EXPLORED IN SEASON TWO BUT THERE WILL ALSO BE MULTIPLE CANON GAY CHARACTERS THIS IS SOMETHING I THOUGHT WAS IMPOSSIBLE IN TELEVISION BUT WHAT DO YOU KNOW WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE

Other pros -developed from a book series that had previously not been done justice -completely ignores the shitty, shitty comic for the afore mentioned book series -is already a little gay -lots of strong women with comprehensive plots that don’t revolve around them being women, also they all deal with some form of mental illness and they all continue to kick ass is that rounded representation I taste in the air -a star studded cast that will blow your fucking socks off m8 -a BBC show set in America -wacky adventures -the virtue of found family -shark??? Cat!????? Thing?????? -a weird genius main character who is actually relatable and who we actually get to see be vulnerable not because the plot demands it or he or his friends are threatened, but because he’s a human being with feelings -like the only BBC show that Moffat hasn’t gotten his hands on yet god bless -an always changing format that won’t get old after two seasons -being a child of the universe is actually a main character trait in this thing -they’re all kind of assholes but they’re assholes together -round characters??????? -multiple characters with tragic back stories that don’t turn into grumpy brooding assholes but in fact only become more kind and more loving because they know what it feels like not be be extended the basic kindness that should be given to all human beings. -it shows that sometimes even those closest to you can let you down and hurt you a lot, and when that happens, you don’t have to stay because they’re family or because you love them, but rather that sometimes what’s best for both of you is separation. Not because you hate them. Because you love them. -nobody is what they first seem. You must look deeper to find the truth -the feeling of just concentrated sunshine in this show -accurate depiction of the US government -just?????? So pure????????????????

Cons -??????????????? -Dirk’s too cute?????? -????????????????

In conclusion GO WATCH IT ITS AVAILABLE ON BBCA.COM GO GO GO

[illuminating-dragons]

Dreams and Visions (35/51): Modern Tales

Time Period: BBC

Chapter Summary:  Some modern headcanons, since I finally FINISHED THEM OMIGOSH MYSTRADE WHY YOU SO ANNOYING. A couple NSFW

Read it on AO3

Johnlock

  John has terrible memories of being alone in a hospital, and refuses to let Sherlock be in them by himself. Sherlock thinks visiting hours are dull. They generally end up sleeping on a cot because the nurses give up.

(NSFW): When they do start having sex, Sherlock mistakenly thinks that they are supposed to be having sex every night[1]. John agrees (though he doesn’t need it that often at all). They make it just over a week before they’re both too exhausted and cranky to cuddle, let alone have sex. The misunderstanding is eventually resolved, they both laugh about it and from then on they make love only when they both want to. There’s plenty of other things to do, after all.

Sherlock still rants about it sometimes.

   Even before they got together John was determined to find Sherlock a book that he would enjoy and not toss away. He started reading his favourite books aloud, with varying amounts of response from Sherlock. John almost gave up until he awoke from a two-day coma to Sherlock’s deep, shaky voice reading The Hobbit. Tolkien, in all his triumphs and shortcomings (Sherlock has fought people over Samwise Gamgee) becomes one of their favourite entertainment sources: their first anniversary they watched the entirety of the Extended Editions. The quotes on their wedding rings are from Sam’s speech.

    They never go to bed angry. They’re both too scared of waking up to an empty bed.

John

           John discovered he was bi because of a boy named Victor Trevor. He never shares the story with Sherlock, or he would know that Sherlock solved his murder.

          Two years after his marriage, John receives a call from his sister. Harry calls from a rehab clinic and shares some stories about their childhood that John was too young to remember, stories that make some of her behaviour make more sense. It’s not an excuse, and it’s a long road to reconciliation, but the Watsons do, eventually, start to feel like siblings.

          On their marriage certificate, it shows that John changed his name to John Hamish Watson Holmes. He keeps his own name for professional reasons, but Sherlock calls him ‘Mr. Holmes’ as often as he can.

         John has been keeping an album since just after he moved into 221B. When he has a quiet day, he looks through it, remembering that all the people in it are family, and he marvels at how lucky he's become.

Sherlock

         Sherlock first sees the term demisexual in the fanfiction bookmarks of a kidnapping victim[2]. He deletes the definition. Then he meets John, and suddenly that word explains everything.

         Sherlock doesn’t truly approve of Mycroft and Greg’s relationship, but that’s mainly because he now has to share both of his favourite people that are not John or Mrs. Hudson. It’s a minor comfort that he’s sharing them with each other.

         Sherlock stopped taking drugs after he and John started dating. He didn’t need them anymore; there was plenty of rush from being in love.

         Sherlock keeps his wedding ring almost obsessively clean. He’s delighted to realize that John does the same.

Mystrade

           The reactions to John and Sherlock’s relationship were as varied as they were passionate. When people found out about Mycroft and Greg, on the other hand, there were only two. It was either “didn’t know you were gay,” or “you two match”.

           A relationship between two workaholic, emotionally mellow men doesn’t sound like it will last. As a matter of fact, Greg actually begins planning to retire on time, and Mycroft learns to be romantic.

          There were occasional threats to Greg because of Mycroft’s work. Mycroft always ensured that anyone making such threats had to apologize to Greg personally before they were…dealt with.

          Greg’s ex-wife finds herself in constant financial troubles and her hairdressers keep ignoring her directions. Greg finds this quite sweet…and a little alarming.

Greg

           Greg has always tried to go with the flow (which is why he can handle Sherlock so well). So when Mycroft asked him if their regular coffee could perhaps be held at a more romantic location, he didn’t panic or even ask if he was sure. He could learn to love Mycroft. What he learned instead was that he already did.

           It takes a lot of smarts to be a Detective Inspector. What takes more is being married to a Holmes, and learning when a case file is an apology and a request to close the curtains is a hint to go to bed. He learns.

           Greg loves music and poetry, but he’s utterly rubbish at writing his own. He can, however, appreciate Mycroft’s attempts fully.

          Greg’s never been too keen on sex (that was part of his troubles with his ex-wife). To his relief, Mycroft isn’t either. When they do sleep together, it’s passionate and loving and everything it’s supposed to be…but honestly, one time can hold them for months.

Mycroft

           Mycroft loves labels; he organizes, he files, it’s what he does. On the other hand, he refuses to find a label for his own orientation. He doesn’t like the idea of filing a part of himself away—he likes the idea of analyzing how he feels about Greg even less.

          When Mycroft starts trying to exercise, it’s not to impress Greg. It’s to give them a few more years together.  

          In a moment of sentimentality, Mycroft buys Greg a sculpture of a goldfish. Greg doesn’t get it until Sherlock explains.

         Mycroft is secretly delighted by his desk job, not the least because it means he can wear his wedding ring without worrying about losing it.

Real Office Romance (Molly/Mike)

           Mike and Molly become the hottest topic of discussion at St. Bart’s. It changes to ‘ohmigod did you see Sherlock Holmes punch out that bloke for saying Molly settled?’

           Mike never imagined that someone like Molly could love someone like him—ordinary, steady, sweet and far too fond of football. Molly doesn’t understand how it took her so long to realize she wanted him.

           Lily and Jacob are their only blood children, but when the twins are eight they decide to become foster parents. Sherlock and Kitty find children among the Homeless Network, and a little bureaucratic meddling means their house is full of kids for years. Mike retires to become a stay-at-home father.

           Mike is insanely proud of Molly. Molly is insanely proud of Mike. When they get drunk, they try to outdo each other with praise.

Molly

           Molly enjoys being a mother, and she enjoys her job. She juggles both efficiently, and both her work and her children are fully aware that she loves them equally.

           Before her mother dies, Molly gets up the courage to ask her about how her father died. She’s not at all surprised to hear her mother made a desperate attempt to protect her. She’s just surprised that the police let them go.

          Molly continues to sneak Sherlock into the morgue. Her bosses pretend they don’t know what she’s doing.

          Molly never liked Jim Moriarty. She used him entirely to make Sherlock jealous.

Mike

           Mike had resigned himself to a single life well before he introduced John to Sherlock. He just didn’t see why anyone would put up with him.

           Despite his joke to John, Mike loves to teach, and he’ll often borrow John’s case stories to illustrate different aspects of medicine. He had Sherlock in as a guest speaker once. Once.

           Mike proposed to Molly in the middle of the night, when he woke up from a dream that involved licorice, pink elephants and a rather large tuba. To this day they can’t figure it out, but those all made their way into their wedding favours.

          Mike never thought he’d be a good dad. His seventeen children, two blood and fifteen adopted, say otherwise.

Mrs. Hudson

           Mrs. Hudson was well aware that Sherlock and John wanted two bedrooms when they first moved in. She was also well aware that they wouldn’t need them long.

           Martha Sissons was very much in love with her husband, and even though she disapproved of the cartel she would have stood by him. It was only when she caught Frank with another woman, and found out about the rest of them, that she wished she’d listened to her best friend.

           Despite her own experiences, Mrs. Hudson enjoys attending weddings. So far her favourite has been Mike and Molly’s, though Kitty and Stan’s was wildly fun.

           Mrs. Hudson considers herself the matriarch of her Baker Street Clan. Mrs. Holmes has no objection.

Moriarty

           Jim Moriarty wasn’t on Carl Powers’ swim team. He was, however, on the chess team that went up the same week.

           Jim never let himself love Sebastian Moran. Why love something you knew you had to throw away, no matter how loyal?

           Jim was not in love with Sherlock Holmes. But he wanted him.

          Jim is a psychopath. He’s been off the charts of every test. Sometimes, just for fun, he’ll try to get a normal person’s answers. He’s only managed it once.

[1] I thought this was true when I was younger, and I was utterly horrified by the idea.

[2] Demisexuality, for those who are unfamiliar, is an orientation where you are not attracted to anyone without first having an emotional connection. I identify as demi, and I found the definition in a fanfic. It’s called ‘Bedtime for 221B’ by akisura12 on fanfiction.net; the chapter in question is chapter 5, ‘Asexual’, if anyone’s interested.

[whatitistobeaphan]

7:30 Every Morning

Prompt: teenagers au

Genre: fluff

Warnings: swearing, very little homophobia

Shit, Dan was late. He was really late. He hadn't realised how fast the time flew when he was listening to music, but the time was 8:24 and school started at 8:30. Being late was okay, it never really mattered - unless you were on your last strike of in-punctuality. Like Dan was. That meant meetings-with-your-parents serious, and detentions. Loads of them. So he did something he never thought he'd do. Dan Howell ran for it. The school was in sight, but he couldn't even see students milling around the front gate. Maybe he was even later than he thought? Out of breath, he stopped for a minute to check his phone. 8:29. He had made it, but... where was everyone? There was only one boy sitting on the steps in front of the locked gate. Raven black hair covered his face and Dan could see he was listening to music on his phone, using red earphones the same brand as Dan. Then he looked up, revealing piercing blue eyes and a defined, pale face. Dan recognised him as a really cute boy from a few years above, Phil. They had never spoken, but Dan definitely used to have a bit of a crush on him back when he had first come to terms with his sexuality. Holding back a blush, he tapped Phil on the shoulder, asking him for the time. Phil frowned at Dan's phone in his hand, but unlocked his own to pause his music and display the time, as well as the album cover for 'Welcome To The Black Parade' by My Chemical Romance. Dan grinned, until he noticed the numbers at the top. "Seven thirty!? My phone is an hour late!" Dan was outraged. He knew it had to be his brother messing with the time zones on his phone. Sometimes, the average sibling rivalry was a lot more than he bargained for. Phil looked confused, but when Dan didn't elaborate, he unpaused the song and locked his phone again. Silence fell upon the two boys as Dan considered his next move. He didn't particularly want to go back home and see Adrian's gloating smirk at his fiftieth successful prank, and there was nowhere else to go since he didn't have many good friends that would let him come over at this early hour. Listening to music was the best option, so he sat down next to Phil, pulling his phone out again and searching his pockets for his earphones. They weren't there. Dan briefly remembered throwing them on the floor of his messy bedroom in a hurry to quickly get dressed and leave for school. He had even skipped breakfast! But, as always, the most important thing was his music, and, without annoying Phil, he couldn't really listen to any. So that sucked. Just then Phil nudged him, seemingly getting what was going on. Dan looked at him questioningly, and as a reply, Phil offered on earbud of his earphones, which Dan happily accepted. Phil still hadn't uttered a word, but he was very expressive through his eyes and actions - like right now he had a very kind face and and was doing a very kind act. Music is sacred, and there's always that constant fear that people will judge you based on your music tastes and how loud you listen to it and so on. But it just so happened that Dan very much agreed with Phil that Muse was the best ever, that you could never go wrong with TOP, and that MCR, FOB and Panic! were the holy trinity. So when Phil smiled in appreciation, Dan did too - unknowingly, though Phil noticed out of the corner of his eye. It was funny how the hour passed to easily after that. It was interrupted half-way by a teacher unlocking the gates at 8:00, but Phil wordlessly paused his music, picked up his bag and sat down on a wall, this time inside the gates, beckoning Dan to join him. And despite the homework he really should have been doing, and the test in the afternoon he really should have been revising for, Dan sat down with no hesitation at all. That's how it started. Dan woke up an hour earlier every morning - because who doesn't need the extra half hour of their daily routine to straighten hobbit hair? His family was asleep, so he had the whole house to himself while he made breakfast and showered. It was peaceful, silence echoing around the deserted kitchen, and Dan was relaxed while he ate his cereal. Instead of listening to music while getting ready (to escape the noise of the people usually around him), he saved his eardrums for Phil, as they would always meet up at the same time and share music. With his own splitter and headphones, Dan would always be happy sharing Phil's phone, since the music was no different to his own, and when Phil showed him something new, it was always something he liked - completely truthfully, their music tastes just... fit. And when their knees brushed together, Dan blushed and looked away, the warm feeling spreading through his body making his cheeks fuchsia. He looked back, hopefully the colour gone from his cheeks, and Phil was smiling to himself, then to Dan when he noticed the brunette's eyes on him. They locked eyes for a moment, Phil staring unbashfully while Dan doing the opposite. When a teacher came out - thankfully interrupting Dan's mini heart attack - Phil stood up as always, pausing his music and taking his earphones out. This time, however, he offered his hand out for Dan. All Dan did was stare disbelievingly; Phil was standing and Dan was sitting on the steps, earphones in hand. He accepted Phil's help, and was pulled to his feet by muscular arms. Not that he noticed. They went inside the school gates, sitting down on the wall again. As it was the norm for them, Dan sat close to Phil in order to share his phone, but Phil made no move to play the music again. "Dan, I feel like we haven't talked at all and - well, I've always been here alone, but now you sit with me and I think I'm wasting an opportunity to get to know you." Phil spoke, breaking the comfortable barrier of silence between them. Not that Dan minded at all, he liked Phil a lot and was somewhat excited to start a proper friendship with him - actual talking included. "Yeah, you're right." Dan said, but Phil didn't seem to expect Dan to agree, so he just looked surprised. "Anyway, why do you come here so early?" Phil bit his lip, and Dan tried to ignore just how sexy that was. "My brother's an asshole." When Phil didn't elaborate, Dan prompted him. "Older or younger?" "Older. His name is Martyn, and he doesn't go to this school anymore. He still lives with me though, and ever since I... since some stuff happened, he's been really horrible to me, so I avoid him now." Phil didn't look at Dan once when he admitted this. "What about you anyway?" It was a feeble attempt to change the subject, and Dan noticed this. "Dunno, the idea of not being late anymore and listening to quality music without having to waste my own phone battery kinda appealed to me." He said vaguely. There wasn't really any importance to his story, Phil's sounded a lot more troubling. "Ever since you what, though?" The nervousness was catching, as Dan swallowed in anticipation. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like if Phil was to say what was on his mind, it would be some massive confession that he'd only told his family. Phil cleared his throat. "Um, ever since, I, told them, um, I'm... uh, I'm gay?" He phrased it as a question, quickly broke eye contact with Dan. Though when he looked up, Dan was frowning. "I can't believe you have a homophobic brother! It's not the Stone Age anymore, gay marriage is even legal in America! I'm so sorry you had to go through that Phil." Dan was honestly extremely upset for Phil. He was bisexual anyway, and even though he hadn't explicitly told anyone other than himself in front of the mirror, he didn't really think anyone would be particularly bothered by it. Phil peaked at Dan from behind his fringe. "You mean you don't mind?" He asked. "Of course! I'm not a complete dick. Nor a hypocrite." Dan said, coming out as nonchalantly as he could. Phil eyes just widened, showing off that beautiful ocean blue.   "You mean you're...?" "Bisexual, yeah." Phi looked clueless, so Dan filled him in. "It means I like girls and boys. There are loads of different sexualities, you have no idea! The internet hobos - including myself - are extremely up to date with these things. Tumblr is a wonderful place, my friend!" Phil laughed at that, so Dan guessed he knew what he meant. Conversation trailed off after that, but Dan didn't mind. Phil turned on his music again, and as 'Sarah Smiles' (P!ATD) played, he couldn't help the happy, loved-up theme of the music get to his brain. Was Phil... glowing? Yes, his eyes were always bright and skin pale enough to be a vampire, but there was a new, happy glow about him that made Dan erupt into a grin. "What?" Phil asked. Dan didn't realise he had been staring. He could kiss him right now. Dan could kiss Phil and Phil would kiss back, then they'd rest their foreheads together and sigh happily. But he didn't. "Nothing." The next day, Dan was late. He had stayed up late last night, going through Tumblr and Wikipedia and searching up different sexualities and how to come out and taking surveys to see which Disney princess he was (the result was Belle). This made him forget to set his alarm for 6:30, and due to his messed up body clock, he slept until eight and had to do the whole panic thing where he runs around finding clothes and grabbing books. Unfortunately for him, Dan had to skip straightening his hair, since he at least wanted to speak to Phil before school started. Of course, it was a bit weird that he was only late to be early and meet Phil, so technically Dan was on time, but he didn't see it that way. And neither, apparently, did Phil, as he definitely shot Dan a surly look his way. Dan wanted to go and talk to him, but the bell had rung and the two were in different years, forcing him to wait until break to look for him. However, he couldn't find Phil anywhere; it was like he had disappeared. What he didn't know was that Phil left school during both break and lunch to eat, as he didn't have many friends and wasn't really social enough to care. The annoying situation meant that, unless Dan was to stalk him, he wouldn't get to see Phil until that next morning - if he wasn't avoiding Dan. Luckily enough, Phil's brother was enough of a dick for him to not be able to bear his company at all, so Phil arrived at his usual time of 7:20 and put his earphones in. Dan, this time waking up at the correct time, joined him ten minutes later, sitting down besides Phil and hoping he wasn't mad. To his surprise, Phil took out his earphones from the phone and held his hand out to him. Dan handed over his splitters. Moments later they were nodding their heads along to My Chemical Romance's 'It's Not a Fashion Statement It's Death'. Everything was going as normal, but Dan couldn't help but to feel some... tension around the two. Phil clearly had something on his mind, but he didn't look like he'd be updating Dan about it anytime soon. The brunette boy decided to break the newly-found uneasy silence around them, nudging the other with his elbow. Phil paused his music, watching Dan with curiosity and waiting for him to say something. "Sorry I was late yesterday, I overslept. Wikipedia tangents are so unpredictable sometimes." Phil chuckled a little a that, albeit possibly a little forced, but Dan smiled, happy he was getting through to him. "How boring was yesterday, without my company and all? Miss me much?" Dan asked cheekily. Phil rolled his eyes, though he was smiling. "Meh, same old, same old. Me and the caretaker, though - I think we really hit it off yesterday. You were nowhere to be seen, and be is just such great company - you're not really needed anymore." Dan couldn't tell he was joking until he broke into a grin, draping his arms around Dan's waist in a friendly, laid back manner, drawing him close as one would squeeze another's hand. There was nothing amorous or suggestive about it at all, Dan reminded himself over and over again as he leaned into Phil's touch. Peacefully, the boys stayed that way for what seemed like a very long time. Neither pulled away, nor did Dan or Phil turn the music back on at any point. Dan liked it like that. He wasn't quite sure what was going on in his head, or Phil's for that matter, but that moment of mindfulness was extremely welcome. Of course, the one thing that may have been definitely far better would have been for Phil to lean in, looking down at Dan's mouth with lust and desire, then suddenly Phil's lips on his, softly, sweetly kissing him with loving and tender care. But that didn't happen. Soon, another week passed, and Dan felt like something wasn't right. It was the weekend again, but this one was lonelier than most. He only saw Phil on schooldays early in the morning, and was almost... craving more. Phil was all that was on his mind, whenever he had a moment to his self, or just a bit of time where he could let his mind wander, it always returned to Phil's crystal blue eyes and jet black fringe. Of course, it didn't come with the baggage it came with before; Dan was no longer questioning his sexuality, and had fully accepted it. But before he could even think to make any sort of move on Phil, it was best to be certain of the reaction of his parents. Dan had never been afraid of what people thought of him - at least, never before. It never really bothered him. And now... it was about his family: mum, dad, Adrian. Thinking about Phil reminded him that coming out wasn't always so easy. When Monday rolled around, Dan decided on going to Phil for advice. He had already had previous experience with the exact situation Dan was dealing with, so it seemed the obvious choice. Phil was already sitting on his steps, nodding his head along to the music, though when he noticed Dan he took out his earphones. "Hey." He smiled, lighting up both his face and Dan's. Dan swallowed nervously. "I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?" He asked. Phil nodded, patting the space on the ground beside him and setting aside his phone. "Whatever you need, Dan." Phil smiled again, making Dan feel far more comfortable and reassured as he smiled back. "I want to ask you about... coming out." Dan looked at Phil nervously, and Phil stared at his lap somewhat guiltily for a few minutes before looking up and replying. "I'm sorry, I probably scared you you about coming out by telling you about my brother. It doesn't always go like that, Dan, and not everyone is a homophobe. Sometimes you have to take risks so you don't hold back who you are and what you want; it's better than pretending to be someone you're not." Phil cupped Dan's cheek in the palm of his hand and Dan nuzzled into it ever so slightly. "If your parents love you, they will accept you." As he said this, Phil removed his hand. "Thank you Phil, really. I think... I may be actually ready to do this." Phil smiled at Dan, a proud expression on his face. "Good. And if you need any help, I'm here for you." Dan chewed his lip. He wanted to ask for one more thing but was unsure whether Phil would find it strange or not. "Maybe, um, you could help?" Phil's response was to look at him quizzically. "I mean, you could, well-" "Pretend to be your boyfriend?" Phil guessed. He had been thinking the exact same thing, though he wasn't sure exactly how he had found the courage to say anything. Dan nodded sheepishly. "I'd be happy to do that, anything to help! I know how hard it is, when you're so nervous of their reactions. And I'll be there for you no matter what." He took Dan's hand and smiled. "Would you, maybe, come over after school? My parents wont be home until a bit later, so we could just hang out and get our story straight?" Dan suggested, taking another risky leap into the unknown. "Sure." Phil smiled again. The rest of the school day was just plainly irrelevant. Dan didn't care about the area of a triangle using sine, he didn't care what Shakespeare symbolised though his repeated use of verse, he didn't care about the direction of blood flow through the heart. All that mattered was that Phil freaking Lester was coming over to his house. As if that wasn't nerve-wrecking enough, they would be discussing their (fake) relationship. And coming out. Dan wasn't the loneliest kid in school -  that was probably Phil, at least before he met Dan -  he had a few mutual friends though seating arrangements and groups in classes. As long as he kept on good terms with them, Dan was fine with it. But now he really needed someone he was close to, that wasn't Phil, so he could talk about Phil. And after school, Dan started panicking. Where would they meet? When? What would they talk about? Should they walk or take the bus? What should they eat? Should Dan change out of his uniform? How should he introduce Phil to his parents? Is the fake boyfriend thing a bad idea? However, he saw Phil already waiting by the gate. He was staring off into the distance, so Dan jokingly waved a hand in front of his eyes, announcing his presence. Phil grinned, lighting up his whole face, and offered his hand out to Dan, who had to remind himself that it was all an act, and not a sign that Phil liked him. The two made their way to Dan's empty house, walking the whole way and talking about the many mutual interests they had. Once they started on their similar music tastes, the conversation found it's way to video games and movies, as well as tumblr and youtube. Dan led Phil up to his room, untidied and covered in band posters. The first thing Phil commented on was the piano, sitting on the stool and lightly brushing the keys. "Do you play?" He asked, and Dan replied in affirmative. "Will you play for me?" Phil smiled cheekily. Dan hesitated, but then grinned back and pushed Phil off the stool playfully to sit on it himself. Taking a deep breath, he placed his fingers on the piano and began to play 'Inguene', letting the music wash over him. When he looked up again, Phil had his eyes closed and was leaning against the wall. The music stopped playing, and Phil opened his eyes, blushing at Dan's amused stare. "Shall we discuss details?" Phil changed the subject hastily. "That was beautiful by the way." He added. Dan's blush was darker than Phil's, but he stuttered "Thank you" and sat down on his bed, inviting the other boy next to him. "So, how long have we been dating? My mum'll want the story of how we met." Phil giggled, and Dan almost died in shock at how cute that was. "Well, my mum always said that the best way to lie is to stay as close as possible to the truth. So why not just tell the real story of how we met, about a month ago, adding that we started dating then as well. That'll also clear up where you've been disappearing early in the morning every day. Then everything's sorted!" "Sounds airtight to me." Dan smiled. "Now I can focus my mind on worrying about how they'll react." Seeing how forlorn and nervous Dan looked, Phil scooted closer to Dan and wrapped an arm around him. Dan found himself leaning into his touch, unsurprised at his urge but very surprised at his confidence. Phil rubbed his hand up and down Dan's arms, comforting him, and though he made Dan's heart beat faster, it also calmed him down and made him feel more at ease. "Don't worry," Phil murmured quietly, his breath hot on the top of Dan's hair. "Everything will be fine. And if we don't get the preferred outcome, I'll stay by your side and help you through it." Dan looked up at Phil with eyes so full of innocence and worry and trust. "Promise?" Placing a kiss to Dan's forehead, Phil smiled. "Promise." But Dan didn't really have the time to silently scream about the deep blush flooding his face from the tingling spot on his forehead that the hottest boy in the world had kissed so softly but so lovingly, since from downstairs, he could hear his mother entering through the door while talking on the phone to his father. "Oh shit, she's early." Dan whispered, looking at Phil while his stomach lurched. "Do we have to do this now?" "It's now or never Dan. We can wait for your father to come home first, but I think we should get it out of the way first. Okay?" Dan nodded. "So how do you want me to act? Should I call you by your name or a pet name? How should I address them? Do you want me to be touchy or not?" It then occurred to Dan just how nervous Phil was. "You really don't have to do this, you're not actually my boyfriend. These strings aren't yet attached to you." He joked. "No, I want to." Phil argued. Dan thought for a bit. "Well, in that case, just act as if you were really my boyfriend." "But if you were really my boyfriend and I was being introduced to your parents, I would have no idea how to act, so I'd ask you!" Dan chuckled at that. Downstairs, his mother was finishing her phone call. "Dan, I'm home!" She called up the stairs. "I'm going to have to go down now. And it doesn't really matter what they think about you, this is all fake, and we're going to have to 'break up' at some point too." Phil looked down, playing with his hands. "What?" Dan asked. "It's just... I do care what they think of me because... well, I want to be your real boyfriend someday, if you'd say yes of course." Dan gaped at him. "You... you really mean that?" When Phil nodded, Dan couldn't contain his happiness. He flung his arms around Phil and embraced him tightly. "Yes. Of course I will be your boyfriend." He didn't want to ever let go, but from downstairs his mum was calling him again. "Coming mum!" He reluctantly untangled himself from his BOYFRIEND and called down to his mum. "At least I'm not lying to her any more. And to answer your question, be yourself and be comfortable with that. I've never brought anyone home before, let alone a boy, so I don't really know how you should act, but that seems like the safest bet." Phil held out his arm as Dan opened the door, beckoning for Dan to hold on. "What a gentleman." Dan commented, leaving the room with his boyfriend. "Mum?" He called out. "I've got someone here. Someone special." Dan smiled at Phil, who only blushed. The two went down the stairs, letting go of each other when they met Dan's mum in the kitchen. "Mum, this is Phil." His mum gave him a quizzical look. "He's my boyfriend?" Dan's voice got higher at the end of the phrase, making it sound like a question. Mrs Howell stayed silent for a minute, then raised the phone to her ear. "Didn't I tell you, Howard? I knew Dan was going to come out, I said so! You just heard it with your own ears. I'm going to go now, come home soon! Love you." She put the phone down. "Sorry, Sweetie. Your dad and I were having a disagreement on when you were going to come out to us. Phil, was it? Welcome to the family." Phil, who was shifting uncomfortably before this, grinned slightly and and blushed. "Thanks, Mrs Howell." "Just call me Katherine." Phil's smile grew. "You treating my son well?" "Muum." Dan moaned. "Um, we haven't really been going out very long... but yeah, I'd never do anything to hurt him at all." Phil looked at Dan when he said this, giving him a sweet smile. "Well that's good. Do you go to school together? Is that why Dan keeps sneaking off early every morning?" Phil looked sheepish. "Um, we don't... we're not in the same year, but we meet up every morning." "Aww, that's so sweet you two. I expect to be seeing a lot more of you, Phil, but you can go upstairs now. Stay safe!" She joked. The two boys went back upstairs, both blushing furiously. "I think that went quite well." Dan said. Phil bit his lip. "There is just one more think I want to do." Phil said quietly, edging closer to Dan. Dan closed his eyes, easily guessing what was happening. Phil was taller, so Dan tilted his head slightly upwards, and their lips connected.

[garden-ghoul]

fellowship of the bloggening, part 5

“I think Frodo is going to get stabbed”

by

A KNIFE IN THE DARK

ooohohoo I wrote that blurb before I even looked to remember what the chapter title was. Fate. So we rejoin Freder... Frickerick... Fredericton... Fredegar! Mr Fredegar Bolger, who wakes and finds a thin, menacing voice at his door telling him to “Open up, in the name of Mordor!” Sorry that’s really dorky. Anyway Fredegar books it like a mile to the nearest house and lies on the floor wheezing “I don’t have it!” until people figure out someone’s after him and sound the alarm. The Nazgul leave Buckland; “Sauron will sort out the little folk later.” Holy shit.

That same night, Frodo wakes and finds Strider looking curiously alert in the corner of the room. Does he... sleep? Do Dunedain not have to sleep? Or has he trained himself to not sleep because The Enemy is constantly setting traps for him? Anyway they all get up and go check on their room (I guess they are sleeping in Strider’s room) and yep, someone has definitely been there trying to murder them. Also, their ponies are gone, and since as Strider says they can’t count on getting anything to eat between here and Rivendell (??? you’re a ranger dude, can’t you HUNT?) they need to find a horse SOMEWHERE to help them carry. I’m hoping Tom Bombadil’s fairy pony is still lurking somewhere. Waiting. just so you all know I picture it as this awful thing.

‘How much are you prepared to carry on your backs?' [asks Strider]

'As much as we must,' said Pippin with a sinking heart, but trying to show that he was tougher than he looked (or felt).

Aw Pippin. Oh, great, the ponies actually did end up following Fatty Lumpkin home, and Tom Bombadil eventually brought them back to the innkeeper, so all’s well that ends well. Meantime our heroes have to make to with a very expensive and unhappy pony sold to them by Bill Ferny, aka that guy who’s probably a spy of The Enemy. And they set off under the eyes of the entire village, since they’ve made such a spectacle of themselves what with Frodo’s vanishing act, everyone’s horses getting stolen, and the mysterious Strider joining their party. Even Bill Ferny comes to sneer at them; Sam hits him in the face with an apple. That’s our Sam!! He’s so petty, I love him. It’s a waste of a good apple, though, he says.

We veer off the road and take a shortcut through a marsh to throw off pursuers. Strider is very good at knowing where to go! He says some paranoid stuff that makes Sam anxious, blah blah, small chance of ever meeting Gandalf on Weathertop Hill, more sheltered approach, blah blah bird spies.

Pippin declared that Frodo was looking twice the hobbit that he had been.

'Very odd,' said Frodo, tightening his belt, 'considering that there is actually a good deal less of me. I hope the thinning process will not go on indefinitely, or I shall become a wraith.'

'Do not speak of such things!' said Strider quickly, and with surprising earnestness.

He is afraid Frodo will Succumb to the Ring and become a Nazgul... He mentions the history of the old fort on Weathertop (Amon Sul) and Sam recites a fragment of a poem about Gil-galad, translated by Bilbo. Apparently in poems whenever you say ‘Mordor’ you have to then remind everyone that it is ‘where the shadows are.’ When you’re not reciting a poem, though, don’t say Mordor! (Strider urges). I don’t know what he thinks is going to happen. The bird spies weren’t paying attention until they heard the name of Mordor but now, oh boy!

An aside, with all this talk of ancient history. I’m wondering why Tolkien decided that all the ancient ancient history should have happened on another part of the world entirely, now sunk under the sea. I think it would be really neat to have, like, 6000 year old ruins/settlements. That sort of Rome feel where you’re going about your business in the city, or taking a train through the countryside, and you pass something so old it would take an archaeologist to guess what it was. And then you pop into the CVS next door or whatever for a pack of gum. Pipeweed. Whatever.

On top of the hill they find evidence of an enormous fire, and a stone that probably has G3 scratched on it in runes, indicating that Gandalf was here on October third. It kind of ruins my immersion that they have October on Middle Earth... Strider comes to the conclusion that Gandalf was attacked here and left in a great hurry. One assumes that he retaliated with fire, since it’s kind of his thing. We spot some Nazgul on the road and decide to hunker down in a cave on the hillside, since moving would only make us more vulnerable and visible. Sam tries to tell more of the lay of Gil-galad, but Strider tells him it’s not the place or time for it (???) and he should wait til they get to Rivendell (???). And so he tells a bit of the Lay of Leithian instead. Interestingly, he doesn’t sing the Lay, but chants it. I’m not sure if lays are supposed to be sung normally and he just doesn’t think much of his voice. That would be cute characterization. He’s kind of shy.

He talks a little about how Luthien was Elrond’s uhh great great grandmother (or whatever, I didn’t count) and absolutely does not mention that he is also descended from her. Frodo thinks his voice sounds rich and deep and I am inferring he also thinks Strider looks very beautiful is he is telling ancient lore that no-one else knows.

But black riders show up, and though Frodo resists he is Compelled to put on the Ring. He sees the Nazgul in great detail, and manages to take the Ring off, get out his sword, and mumble Varda’s Sindarin name as they lunge, before he faints. Good multitasking, Frodo!

FLIGHT TO THE FORD

We learn  that the Nazgul have been somewhat driven off NOT by Frodo attempting to stab the Witch King but by him muttering the name of the light Vala. Now they’re lurking. Oh Frodo has a cursed wound now though; the Nazgul are expecting it to incapacitate him completely soon. BUT Strider knows some medicine, slightly magic medicine, which he explains in endearingly complete detail.

Anyway they put Frodo on the pony (who has recovered from Ferny’s ill treatment somewhat!) and run for it. Frodo is stoic in his pain; everyone else is edgy, tired, and miserable. They make it to the bridge over the Hoarwell River, where Strider was expecting to encounter Nazgul. He finds a beryl (also known as an elf-stone, puzzlingly), and takes it as a sign that it’s safe to cross. Maybe some elves are looking out for them? Frodo asks about the ruins they are riding through (destroyed by Angmarians) and Strider tells that he learned a lot of his lore at Rivendell: “I dwelt there once, and still I return when I may.There my heart is; but it is not my fate to sit in peace, even in the fair house of Elrond.” Aw. You got some kind of a prophecy complex there, Strider? Also, even Strider gets lost sometimes, when taking extra sneaky paths to throw off pursuit. Frodo can hardly move but has to walk anyway; our heroes are off-course and nearly out of food. They’re so off-course that they come upon the trolls Bilbo fought during his adventure--I don’t think this will be very important, but it gives a nice sense of continuity, and a reminder that hobbits can go on adventures and come out all right.

Later that day they meet Glorfindel, lately of Rivendell, on the road; turns out he was the one who chased the Nazgul away from the Hoarwell bridge. Elrond has been sending out riders to look for our party. He gives Frodo his horse, for speedy getaways. Frodo, the darling, tries to say he doesn’t want to get away and leave his friends behind, but Glorfindel points out that he’s the only reason they’re in danger, and if he gets away they’ll be safer. Frodo shuts up. They almost manage to reach the ford at Bruinen before the Nazgul come upon them; Frodo rides hell for leather but some of them are lying in wait!

'The Ring! The Ring!' they cried with deadly voices; and immediately their leader urged his horse forward into the water, followed closely by two others.

'By Elbereth and Lúthien the Fair,' said Frodo with a last effort, lifting up his sword, 'you shall have neither the Ring nor me!'

My boy! So the river surges up and carries off the Nazgul (all nine!) while they’re trying to cross (later we learn Elrond has total command over the river; sick). And I realize Arwen isn’t going to be in this at all. It’s weird that they turned Glorfindel into her for the movies.

HEY NOW IT’S TIME FOR BOOK 2! And the first chapter:

MANY MEETINGS

Frodo wakes in a warm comfy bed, and Gandalf is there to tell him what’s going on. Since we already know, I’m omitting most of that, except this part:

'I am glad,' said Frodo. 'For I have become very fond of Strider. Well, fond is not the right word. I mean he is dear to me; though he is strange, and grim at times. In fact, he reminds me often of you. I didn't know that any of the Big People were like that.’

HAH. He is dear to Frodo. They will learn to understand each other. And then they will tenderly hold hands. Anyway Gandalf gives some more exposition, ho hum. Frodo wakes later SO READY for feasting and stories; Sam comes in.

He ran to Frodo and took his left hand, awkwardly and shyly. He stroked it gently and then he blushed and turned hastily away.

`Hullo, Sam!' said Frodo.

`It's warm!' said Sam. `Meaning your hand, Mr. Frodo. It has felt so cold through the long nights. But glory and trumpets!'

Oh noooo that’s super gay. Sam is such a sweetheart, MOSTLY with Frodo. I get the impression he has had a crush for a very long time. Frodo and Sam find their other hobbit pals; Pippin is filled with sass and sarcasm, as usual, and they are both very glad to see Frodo alive and well. And just in time for the feast, too! We go to the feast, and hear a bunch of physical descriptions of the people sitting at the high table with Frodo (Elrond, Glorfindel, Gandalf, and Arwen). We learn, in a kind of ambient information way, that “Elladan and Elrohir were out upon errantry: for they rode often far afield with the Rangers of the North, forgetting never their mother's torment in the dens of the orcs.” Holy shit what? I don’t remember anything about Celebrian getting, uh, kidnapped and tortured?

Frodo is actually sitting next to Gloin, which is cool! He is described as a dwarf of great importance, princely, with white hair. Frodo is very curious to hear any news he can give, and Gloin is happy to get the chance to infodump to such a polite listener! What brings him here is rather grim, though--three of his friends are missing. He declines to say more; I expect we’ll learn of it during the council. After eating everyone goes to the fire/storytelling hall, where Bilbo is huddled up real small composing a song (apparently Aragorn sometimes helps him compose songs, very cute). After a while Bilbo sings the song they were coming up with (it’s about Earendil) and then gets indignant when the elves can’t tell whose parts are whose. “Sheep look different to other sheep!” they say. Rather insulting, although I’m sure elves never mean to be especially condescending.

And now, because I am very curious and haven’t totally worn myself out for the day, let’s read

THE COUNCIL OF ELROND

There are lots of weird people at the council! Representatives from several elf settlements as well as Gloin and his son Gimli, and Boromir who is simply from “the South.” The first news we hear is of what happened to Balin, Ori, and Oin--they took a party of dwarves and went to try to reclaim Moria, feeling that they were very prosperous where they were in Erebor. AND that messengers from Sauron came, asking for the friendship of the dwarves (offering rings of power), and their help catching a certain thief. They fear war on their eastern border, and that the human king nearby might yield to Sauron’s wishes; so they have come to seek advice, and to warn Bilbo.

Next Elrond tells the history of the Ring... “but since that history is elsewhere recounted, even as Elrond himself set it down in his books of lore, it is not here recalled.” A few things of interest: we used to have Minas Ithil and Minas Anor, yes--Minas Ithil was taken and became Minas Morgul, the tower of sorcery. Minas Anor became Minas Tirith (II), the tower of guard. I don’t think they mentioned that in any of the third-age supplementals. Boromir is sort of indignant at the implication that Gondor’s strength and splendor are waning; he would like everyone to know that Gondor is the chiefest bulwark against Sauron in the south, thank you very much! Also he says that his brother had a prophetic poem dream that said to go find Elrond at Imladris and seek advice. Because it was too dangerous for his brother and he wanted to protect him, Boromir came on his own, a journey of almost four months! Brother mentions in his speech: 3. Bilbo gets defensive on Aragorn’s behalf and recites his own poem (“all that is gold does not glitter...”). It’s like a really low-key rap battle. Aw and Aragorn is down on his appearance again, he says he doesn’t look much like the beautiful statues of Isildur and Elendil. Darling we’ve got to do something about that low self-esteem.

Gandalf then tells of his quest to figure out what ring Bilbo truly had. Secret library science! The most thrilling kind of quest! Aragorn puts in a bit about how he found Gollum and brought him to Mirkwood so Gandalf could question him, and the Mirkwood elves hold him... which leads us to Legolas’ reason for being here--Gollum has escaped!

‘We had not the heart to keep him ever in dungeons under the earth, where he would fall back into his old black thoughts.'

'You were less tender to me,' said Glóin with a flash of his eyes.

They kept bringing him outside to climb trees, so he could get a little exercise, that’s so good of them. BUT he was better at climbing than elves, oops. So while they were waiting for him to come down his guards were attacked by orcs, and when the battle was over he was gone! Meanwhile, Gandalf was sent for by Saruman, via their fellow wizard Radagast the Brown. He goes to Orthanc and is immediately greeted with great rudeness and contempt by Saruman.

'I looked then and saw that his robes, which had seemed white, were not so, but were woven of all colours. and if he moved they shimmered and changed hue so that the eye was bewildered.

' "I liked white better," I said.

Lmao nice Gandalf. Anyway they stick him on top of the tower, and he realizes only now that Isengard is full of wolves and orcs and nasty smoke. Really, dude? Thankfully Radagast is still sending messengers to Orthanc with news; one of them is Gwaihir the current king of eagles, who is able to bear Gandalf away. I love how extra that is, sending the king of eagles as a courier to tell someone the Nine are riding around the Shire. Gwaihir takes Gandalf to Rohan (which apparently pays a yearly tribute of horses to Mordor!), where he finds that “the lies of Saruman are already at work.” The king still tells him to take a horse, though he wants nothing to do with Gandalf; this is how Gandalf gets Shadowfax, a horse with chameleon abilities who is also very fast. Boromir very much doubts that the Rohirrim would buy their lives with horses, but Gandalf and Aragorn sort of condescendingly tell him not to be so sure. It’s interesting how Tolkien is setting up Boromir as this naive guy who thinks his kingdom is the only one helping people and that things are still going well. This in contrast to Gandalf and Aragorn, who find the current situation extremely dire.

I also want to talk about Elrond’s editorial comment on Saruman: “It is perilous to study too deeply the arts of the Enemy, for good or for ill.” Once again, even having knowledge of how Sauron works is corrupting. I’m not sure if this is a thing Sauron does by magic, or if Tolkien is suggesting that knowledge and study are inherently a corrupting force! We can see it parallels the way Sauron traditionally swayed people to his side--through crafting knowledge. But in this case he wasn’t even there to earn Saruman’s trust. Saruman was Too Wise (or really, Too Clever and Not Wise Enough). Tolkien’s bias seems to be toward those who don’t seek knowledge, and rather take action. That’s a little simplified but it’s the best I can do right now, since I’m a little fatigued from spending like 3 hours on this liveblog. We’ll be done soon.

Now we are discussing what is to be done with the Ring; Glorfindel briefly suggests giving it to Tom Bombadil, since his domain is impenetrable and the Ring has no effect on him. But he doesn’t care about it, and he’d just lose it. I love that this is a solution they considered. Elrond eventually decides that they have to either destroy it or send it to Aman--and Valinor will not have a piece of evil that belongs to Middle Earth. Boromir, naturally, wants to use it, but in the end they decide they’ll have to cast it into Mount Doom. Bilbo volunteers (we all know why) and is shot down. Frodo volunteers, and Elrond says to him,

'I think that this task is appointed for you, Frodo; and that if you do not find a way, no one will. This is the hour of the Shire-folk, when they arise from their quiet fields to shake the towers and counsels of the Great.’

I like this image a lot.

[phandistraction]

Run

Prompt: You’re the cute nerd that keeps getting pushed around but you just punched your bully and I gotta save you

TW: some violence and homophobia 

Genre: Badboy!Phil, Pastel!Dan, getting together, high school au

Word Count: 1,600

AN: This is my first writing in the phandom so I hope it doesn't totally suck lol it’s just a short little piece to “test the waters.” I actually wrote this about a year ago but just now finally decided to go back and post it because I want to get into writing more often as an outlet ~~~~~~ “Oi, Howell!”

I tense up at the sound of my name radiating down the hall and slowly take a deep breath, knowing what’s coming. I continue walking, hoping that whoever was trying to cause trouble would change their mind and ignore me for once. The universe must have decided to be against me today as I feel my favorite flower crown getting yanked off me leaving my head feeling exposed without its accessory. I let out a small squeak of surprise and turn to face my attacker. Of course it had to be him. Chad, the walking muscle and living embodiment of stupidity. His ruff hands were clutched bitterly around my crown, crushing the lavender petals. I huffed out a breath before speaking, “Can I have that back?”

“Hmm,” Chad hummed pretending to think hard for a moment, twirling the crown around his finger. I grimaced at his amused expression and rolled my eyes.

“I want to go home, can’t you just go fuck with someone else?” I tried again. He grinned wide, showing off this teeth. Well, at least the ones he had left.

“But I don’t think I’m done with you yet, Flower Boy,” he teased using the nickname he knows I hate so much. I tighten my hands into fists at my sides and try my absolute best to look intimidating. But lets be honest, who is going to be intimidated by a boy with hobbit hair wearing ripped white skinny jeans and a pastel baby blue jumper. No one, that’s who.

“You’re a pathetic excuse of a boy. I’m gonna just do you a favor and trash this girly thing,” my eyes almost leave their sockets at those words.

“NO! Please don’t you don’t understand please listen to me oh my god no no no,” I tried.

That was my favorite flower crown and for a good reason. Two years ago I came out to my parents and they took it surprisingly well. I was so nervous that once I said “I’m gay,” I started bawling my eyes out. It wasn't until I felt the soft embrace of my loving parents that the tears had turned into happy ones. The next day when I got home from school, I found a little flat cardboard box on my bed with a red ribbon carefully wrapped around it. I opened the box and found a letter from my mother and father congratulating me on coming out and telling me that they would always love me no matter what. Underneath the note was the gorgeous pastel flower crown. Lavender petals that rapped around a black band piece with small olive green leaves peaking out at places. Ever since then, I had made it a priority to wear the crown at least once a week. It holds so much sentimental value that I don’t even know what I’d do if anything happened to it. So you can now understand why I would be internally freaking out over a seemingly dumb hair accessory.

I try to plea to him but it seems as if my words are just entering one ear and flowing out of the other without any attention from him. He laughed as he watched me begging for my possession back. By now some of the other classmates have turned their attention on us, creating a small circle around the scene. I could feel tears threaten to flow down my flustered cheeks but I refused to let them fall so I didn't make a bigger fool of myself in front of all these people. “Geez, flower boy, don’t get so butt hurt,” he mocks. I throw him the most menacing death glare I could muster as I clench my jaw. How can people be so rude? And why isn't anyone helping me? They can obviously see what’s going on.

Chad gave out a booming laugh, breaking me out of my thoughts in the middle of my pity party. He gives me one last toothy grin before grabbing one of the flower blossoms and yanking, breaking it from its spot on the crown.

I let out a high pitched squeak and the tears start on their own. I can feel them flowing down my face, one right after the other with no promise of stopping. I could hear the laughter of my peers around me but I can't be bothered to care right now as I watch my treasure being destroyed right in front of me. I felt so powerless. My knees start to shake and I slowly drop down onto the ground, imagining how dramatic and ridiculous I must look. I brought my palms to my face in an attempt to put the tears at bay but they weren't showing any signs of slowing. I stare blankly at the space of grass in front of me where the lavender petals are falling one by one. I look up at Chad and see him throwing my crown at me through my now blurry vision clouded with tears. I surge forward and catch it in my hand but there isn't much left to hold now. All the flowers have been torn off, only leaving behind the wire band. He turns to his friends that have been watching with big smiles behind him, and give them some fist bumps to celebrate what he did. I am way past the crying stage at this point as I slowly lift myself back to my feet. I sulk and turn around to start to walk away. All I want to do is go home and cry until I fall asleep. I sniff my nose and wipe at my eyes, clearing my vision up a tad. Wait, no. What am I doing? He shouldn't be able to get away with this so easily! I have never felt this angry about something before but he crossed the line so I welcome my emotions and let the rage fuel my next actions. Chad is too busy flirting with the girls by him to see it coming. I stop walking for a moment to take a deep breath and clench my fists. I whip around and run at him, putting all the muscle and force I can behind my fist as it collides with his nose.

“SHIT,” Chad screams out, lifting his hand up to his face. He brings it down and I can see the satisfying red of blood across his finger. I put on a cheeky smirk when he makes eye contact with me. I can feel my hand pulsating as it hangs at my side but I’m trying my best to suppress and ignore it despite the sharp pain until I can look at it later. “YOU LITTLE FUCK,” Chad lashes out in anger at me. Oh no. I fucked up. I freeze just staring at him, not knowing what to do. I feel someone grab my arm and tug me away from everyone.

I look over and a beautiful boy with black fringe like mine and crystal blue eyes is staring back at me with a look of horror but I can see a hint of laughter in his eyes. “Run!” he orders me as I feel his hand slip into my uninjured one. Luckily my feet are working faster than my mind as I start running next to the strange boy. He’s tugging me along behind him since he’s taller and has longer legs than me.

By the time he deems it safe enough to stop running, I’m practically dying. I should really exercise more instead of spending endless hours on the internet. I lean over with my hands on my knees and take a few moments to attempt to get my breath back. I look up at our surroundings and notice that we made it to a park several blocks away from the school.

“Do you have a death wish or something?” the pretty eyed boy says from next to me. I take the time now to look him over. Black skinny jeans, black v-neck top, and leather jacket. I notice some piercings on his face, spider bites under his lips and an eyebrow bar. His fringe is jet black and kind of looks like mine but flipped to the other side. He must have some tattoo sleeves due to some of it peaking out from under his jacket and out of his collar onto his neck.

I’m not going to lie, he was pretty hot.

I must have been starting longer than necessary because he started chuckling. I narrowed my eyes, confused, “What?”

“Like something you see?” he answers confidently. I immediately blush and look away at the ground instead. “Anyways, I’m Phil.”

“Dan,” I supply in response.

“Nice to meet you,”

“You too. By the way, thanks for umm.. saving me or whatever,” I mumble while picking at my sweater sleeves. Why am I always so awkward? Get it together Dan, for goodness sakes.

“It was no problem, really. But back to my original question, do you have a death wish or something?” Phil chuckled.

I let out a laugh thinking about what just happened. “Something like that.”

“Care to fill me in over coffee this weekend?” What? I looked over to Phil to find him staring at me with a completely serious expression. “R-really?” my voice wavered.

“Yea, you seem pretty cool and I’m not going to lie, you're pretty cute too, flower boy” he admitted with confidence. I rolled my eyes at the nickname. Usually it’s coming from Chad and sends me into a mad mood, but I don’t quite mind it now that it’s coming from Phil.

“Sounds good,” I smile. “As long as we can get some ice for my hand first, I think I underestimated how much that was going to hurt.” Phil let out a deep chuckle and rose from his spot on the bench next to me.

“Lead the way.”

[helloarmchairphilosopher]

Writer's works in progress

I saw that someone else had written up their wip-s, so maybe writing up mine will make me GET ON WITH IT and help me write more on one (or more) of them. 1) 1938 Brooklyn Murder mystery: in which a Ripper (any killer with a knife is always dubbed a Ripper by the press, it's a thing) stalks the young men of the queer/gay community of Brooklyn. One by one young men die and the cops either can't or won't do anything about a few dead [slur]; the mob doesn't care either; war looms in Europe; the Mayor is trying to clean up the city before the World's Fair; the dynamics of the queer community itself is changing as men and women who previously might not have considered themselves part of it are thrown in with it, with new laws meant to manage a moral society; and two men, in exactly that predicament, are watching their friends dying at the hands of the Ripper and hoping they're not next, while dealing with feelings for each other. (The historian in me has run amok.) 2) The Sweater Curse: (Bagginshield) In which hobbits consider it bad luck to make crocheted or knitted garments for themselves (a sign that one has no kin) because sweaters are made and given between first and second degree blood relatives (parents and children, grandparents and grandchildren, aunts and uncles and nieces and nephews). Other kinds of garments are given freely. If a sweater is given to an unrelated person it is considered a proposal. In which dwarves make their own crocheted or knitted garments for themselves (a sign of their craft-skill and self-sufficiency). Other kinds of garments are bought and sold freely. If a sweater is offered as a gift to another person it is befuddling at best and an insult at worst. The Sweater Curse in our world says that if a person, usually a woman, starts to make a sweater for their significant other, usually a man, before they are married, the relationship will end. The fic I'd imagined had a happy ending - with Thorin thinking that Bilbo had been making the sweater for himself. "You loveable dunce, did you never notice I'd keep borrowing Kíli to size it correctly for you? I'd be swimming in it!" 3) transman Phil Coulson fic. I'm not trans, so I'd have to tread carefully here. My real aim is feminism and femininity. A male Coulson has leeway in a manner that a female Coulson would not. A male Coulson is not told that he is missing out on the essential manly quality of being a father and a husband; he is not automatically assumed, on walking into a room, to be the secretary or the assistant. Women always have to be twice as good to be perceived as half as competent, and then (often) they're told not to be a b*tch about it. But all this from the point of Clint Barton, who is kind of clueless, and who really loves Phil (I kind of love this ship and like the rest of the fandom I'm not really sure why), means that he just sees grade-A badass Phil Coulson. Full stop. No edits. No matter what is, or isn't, in his past, in his pants, in his medical file, or what his parents used to call him. 4) Werewolf romance novel Tall dark and handsome (TM) is the antagonist who is stalking and eating people. He's a creep who plays into rape culture and preys on young women who think that his bad boy vibe cover up anything other than a black heart. The protagonist is a smart and kick-ass young woman with a shiny degree and huge student loans working below her talents, as a barman, which is how she knows of the antagonist and his creepiness. She has a friend, her landlady's daughter, who is close to her age. (Yay for passing the Bechdel test? I'd better, after actually meeting Alison Bechdel.) The love interest is this sandy blonde dorky guy, a drifter who works construction and throws darts at the bar. When people start getting chewed up he's the prime suspect, and even our protagonist doesn't know what to think - but only until our antagonist tries to take a bite out of her, and he intervenes, as a werewolf. And from there it's your usual. I got sick of the werewolf books with creepy rape culture overtones and not passing the Bechdel test and thought, I could do better. 5) a Clint Barton/Darcy Lewis fanfic, in which she helps patch him up after Loki's mind control. In the comics, Clint had a pretty messed up childhood. Circus, dad who beat him, taught to shoot by a man who beat him and then used him first as a thief and then as a killer (or so I loosely understand; and I'd be using a variation on that in the fic, anyway). He would have had to have therapy for it at SHIELD just to be functional as an agent around people. But Loki's mind control messed with all that, breaking the locks and self-management he'd had for so long. He'd have major depressive episodes and PTSD following it. And Darcy, being a civilian, might not be the best person to bring him out, but she was there for Thor and the Destroyer. She saw some shit. And who knows what she had in her childhood. (I do, because I created it, but I'm the author and I can do what I like.) What was done by Loki cannot be undone, but what was done before Loki could, just maybe, be done over again, more painstakingly and with greater care, like walking around the glass shards of a broken vase. 6) a Fíli/fem!Bilbo fic: in which a pregnant Bilbo runs from the Mountain. (Thorin died of his wounds, but Fíli and Kíli survived.) Bilbo, in whatever feminized spelling of one's choosing, won't, can't, stay. The memories of battle, of being shaken like a rat over the gates of Erebor, are too fresh and too raw. The halls reek of dragon and she hears Smaug's eerie deep voice creeping in the shadows. No, she cannot stay. She must go somewhere green. A month, a year, five years, forever, she must go somewhere clean and cleansed. And Fíli, her One, can't go. She knows this. And she, even though she's his One, can't stay. Magic lover's nonsense and whatever, there's reality you have to deal with, and sometimes reality means PTSD and dragon stink. So they argue, the night after his coronation. She is due to leave the next day with Gandalf and it'll be the last time - it's emotionally fraught. He's mad and she's mad, because they both *want* it to be different. In my mind's eye I saw the argument, in the indirect result: his name was Frerin. And, of course, that can't be let alone, since as the eldest son of a king, half-hobbit or no, he is heir apparent to a throne, and a birthright. Tolkien wrote that dwarf populations at the end of the end of the Third Age and into the Fourth dwindled until the race itself failed - meaning that there were too few women having too few children. This is obvious enough from what we see in the appendices. A king having a son hidden from him and raised by a non-dwarf woman, even if she is his mother? A scandal, the fanon assumes, and I presume with it. 7) a Bucky Barnes in slightly more efficient and effective hiding fic. There's that photo going around of Sebastian Stan from the set of his latest movie and he has this big mustache, and jeez if Bucky looked like that, some people commented, and not all 90s Grunge, he might have escaped a lot better, since the photo Zemo circulated assumed that Bucky looked like a hobo. Personally I don't see Bucky growing that mustache (looking like Howard Stark, who he assassinated, would give him a heart attack). Nor do I see him as a teacher, of math or otherwise, as the original post suggested; he'd never pass the background check. But there's another picture of Sebastian Stan I saw that was also relatively recent (but before any of the photos from the set of I, Tonya) with a full beard, and if he'd grown that out, if Bucky had grown that out, maybe he might have looked like Norm Abram back when he was younger. So, maybe a carpenter. It's a sin to hide that beautiful jawline, but effective. Bucky would get away from HYDRA and SHIELD both, just by staying off the radar and not looking like what they expect. He could even use his real name - there are 4,207 other James Barnes-es in the US, what would make him special? There are only 27 Clint Bartons. One borrowed social security number, one rented house, anywhere would do but I was thinking Santa Fe (because I've been there and can describe it, it's cool enough in part of the year he can wear long sleeves outside and the rest of the year there's air conditioning and he can wear long sleeves inside to cover the arm, and because it's a tourist town, people with money to spend on his carpentry work). From my notes, in particular: He checks in at the spots the Smithsonian mentioned. Red Hook, Dumbo, Coney Island. Those spots in Brooklyn that are supposed to have had that towheaded little captain America to be and his sidekick to become running amok in the 1920s. Some pieces fit. Bits of bitty Steve fit in, here and here, slotting back into Bucky's memory. Steve is a huge, pun intended, part of who he once was. To have made Bucky forget Steve, no wonder he forgot himself - - or was it the other way around, that Bucky forgot himself because he forgot Steve? 8) nonfiction, Torah commentary, starting with Genesis (Bereshit). 9) nonfiction, the history (I've been working on for five years) of the Hasidic movement during the Holocaust. Various dynasties and their rebbes, and the rebbes' successors, and the survival of the Hasidim and the Hasidut - how it worked, where it happened, how it happened; but from there, which members of the rabbinical families did not survive? Why? What attempts were made to save them? When attempts were made, who was given first preference and what stated reason, if any, was given? These are questions that have not yet been answered. And I have limited access to Hasidim, by language and by culture. These are not questions anyone would ever give me a straight answer to, of course. I have strong suspicions. Nothing more. The demographics of death - these are records we do have - say a lot. And the final chapters of the book, or the last volume, or the next book, also needs to be written: the rise to power of the other Hasidic dynasties, the massive shift in power away from Poilisher-Yidish culture elsewhere due to the near destruction of that community. Lubavitch, Bobov, Satmar, Belz, and Ger - only the last is Poilisher-Yidish. Before the war the largest Hasidic dynasties were to be found in Poland: Ger, Aleksandr, and Radomsk. There's a lot here no one else has done. I suppose it falls to me. So, I have many things to work on. I have lots to choose from. If only my brain would ACTUALLY LET ME DO IT, DAMMIT.