#I think this lineup has been the same for two weeks

[kaciidubs]

Thank you for tagging my my darling RJ!!! <3

Rules: Post the first 10 songs on your Spotify on repeat playlist.

Peaches and Doom Du Doom feels so weird to have here because I feel like I haven't heard them as often as they say 😗

Tagging with love; @goblinracha @sweetracha @ddyskz @onmykneesforchanlix @abcdefgiwsmcty @smuttystraykidsthoughts @seo--changbin @escapetheshark @bangchanbabygirlx

[futfemfantasies]

failed \\ sam kerr x reader

TW: injury (the dreaded 3 letters), fluff

2023 World Cup. Home soil. Co-captain with the love of your life. Playing in your hometown Stadium is one thing but playing a World Cup there? It's a whole other dream come true.

Sitting next to Sam, your knee is bouncing uncontrollably. She put her hand on your thigh and gives it a light squeeze, silently asking if you're okay. You nod and plant a soft kiss on her cheek. The starting lineup including you and Sam start to walk out to meet your mascots. You look around and everyone has theirs except you. A small tap on your thigh forces you to look down at your mascot. It’s none other than your mini me aka your niece Athena. You pick up the smiling and now excited to-year-old and kiss her squishy, chubby cheeks.

"You win Aunt y/n/n?"

"Not yet princess, Aunt Sammy has to score some goals first"

Sam turns around before giving your your niece multiple kisses.

You nudge Sam to start walking out and the roaring of the fans brought a wide smile to your face. Lining up, Athena starts bouncing on your hip in excitement. After the national anthem, you give Athena back to your sister and start to get prepped for the game. Your job back to the team just in time to hear Sam's pep talk.

"1...2...3... TILLIES!"

You and Sam do your quick handshake before you jog to midfield alongside Katrina and Kyra. The whistle starts and the battle for third place begins. Sweden have come in strong but you and your midfield trio have held your own. So far, Rolfö and Asilani have been targeting you and every time you get up, Sam looks more pissed than before. Around 30 minutes into the second half is where things went wrong. Recovering the ball from Stina was fine, it was the popping sound in your left knee that wasn't.

Screaming as you went down immediately saw the ref blow her whistle. Medics rushed to you, only for Sam to beat them. Same place your head in her lap as the medics touched around the rapidly swelling area.

"Even if it is what we think, I'll be there every step of the way"

Sam helped you off the field, with a standing ovation from the crowd and players. Sam turns back to the game and stomps over to Stina.

"What the fuck is your problem huh? She's injured because of you. You injured your teammates and the best midfielder in the game! I hope you're happy with yourself"

Stina looks visibly scared and your teammates push Sam away before she got herself carded. Sam made at her personal mission to win this game for you, even if that meant doing a few extra slide tackles and shoulder pushes. The final whistle blows after extra time and Sam is speechless. You watch on the small tv as Sam is in full blown tears and the medic said you can go out to the field.

Hopping down the hallways, you see the familiar entryway to the field. Taking your time, you finally get to the grass and you start looking for your short ponytailed beauty. Stina notices you looking around and decides to quickly apologise before Sam scares her off again. The poor girl was on the verge of tears until you reassured her it was nothing she did. You lock eyes with Sam and said your goodbyes to Stina.

You both meet halfway and Sam pulled you into a tight hug, burying her face in your neck. Crutches dropped to the floor, you gave back and even tighter hug as you hear what Sam's mumbling.

"Hey, look at me"

You almost whisper, holding Sam's face in your hands.

"You gave it your all and that's what matters. I love you through all the wins, losses, draws, fourth places. We've done this country so proud okay?"

Sam looks down at your knee and nods slowly.

"I love you too, I'll be here through it all. I'll take some personal leave"

You argue back-and-forth but decided she can take two weeks off. Sam turns around and squats down a little picking up the crutches.

"Jump on. I think there's some fans that want to say thank you to their hometown hero"

You roll your eyes and hop on the slightly older girls back.

You see your teammates first before doing a lap of honour. Right at the end, Sam stops just before a little boy with your jersey on. You direct Sam over and hop down, still leaning on Sam.

"Hey buddy, cool jersey you have on there"

"Y-you my favourite. I wanna be you when I’m older"

You pout at the cuteness at the boy who couldn't be older than 4. You decide in the moment to give the boy your jersey. You take it off and someone gives you a marker. You write a sweet message on it before giving it to him. His mum asked for a photo and of course you say yes. The boy thanks you numerous times and you give him a hug before leaving.

Sam comes back and put a jacket on you before carrying you to the locker room. She said she down at your cubby, which is next to hers, and gives you a look.

"i'm fine babe, really. Are you okay?"

Sam shrugs her shoulders and looks at you.

"I dunno. I wanted to win for you and I failed"

Sam hangs her head, looking at her boots. She hold back tears and you scoot closer to her the best you can.

"You didn't fail me baby. Every game you play for a club or country makes me so unbelievably proud of you. You can never fail in my eyes Sam"

Without warning, Sam pulled you into a bruising kiss, with your teammates wolf whistling and fake gagging.

"Marry me?"

Sam whispers as your foreheads touch.

"A million times yes my love"

“Now let’s get that knee better Mrs Kerr”

“MRS KERR?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

liked by samanthakerr20, stephcatley, leahwilliamson and 89,064 others

ynyln: 19.08.23 ✨ the worst day became the best ✨ can’t wait to do life with you 🥺😍

view all 42,689 comments…

stephcatley: she’s growing up!! Happy for you boo xx

↪️ ynyln: ❤️❤️ love you my steffy

samanthakerr20: Mrs Kerr has a nice ring to it I think 😉

↪️ ynyln: 🙄🙄🙄

leahwilliamson: big sis is getting married!! I’m so happy for you 😁 love you always xx

↪️ ynyln: 🥺 lil sis, love you xx

[kheprriverse]

Look familiar? Bounty Hunter and magic user turned Deity, Ko'jin. Later dubbed as the "Fierce Deity."

Other outfits are a wip. I was gonna wait until they were done but couldn't resist sharing what I was working on for a week.

Masterpost | Lineup | Ko-fi - More info under the cut! This one’s gonna be a pretty long one and the last half below will have the text on the image (coz tumblr’s probably gonna eat the quality) plus some notes sprinkled in.

Plus a look at the Moon Serpent, a common form Ko'jin takes. I'd like to think the Moon Serpent is more commonly known by his followers than the man himself. There are others he takes, like the Silver Wolf, but the dragon is the one most associated with him.

He's relatively unknown after the war before Skyloft's ascent, his image having been completely removed from history. The few traces of him by OOT/MM would be oral tradition, specifically through family members as bedtime stories and legends to tell. Stories about a curious serpent and a powerful artifact.

After the events of MM, the Moon Serpent becomes active again and the festivals dedicated to it return.

Text on the image + extra notes:

Ko’jin, Bounty hunter chosen by Goddess Farore.

“Ko’jin” is not his real name. Once a mortal becomes a god, they abandon their original name. He was never given a proper one again aside from nicknames by worshippers and other deities. Ko’jin is a nickname given to him by his future wife when they first met.

He wears facepaint which is mixed with magic to bolster strength and speed. And later he would get tattoos that did the same [seen later].

Before becoming a god he was a bounty hunter [and popular at that, often being the favorite of a neighboring town]. He would take commission to hunt down monsters many others refused to go near.

Ko’jin has a strong affinity for magic [he uses it practically every day] and often imbues the edges of his sword with darkness magic. Though, the element given to his sword can still vary depending on what or who he’s fighting.

His undersuit and white tunic are much more protective than the brass chainmail, which instead is used more for artistic liberty than function.

“Early Days Moon Serpent”

Ko’jin’s god form was often a dragon for the ease of guiding lost spirits to the afterlife [he’s a judgement god with a very strong connection to the dead and guiding those spirits became his secondary function].

[During the first war with Demise] Soldiers often saw this form as the “Spirit of Courage” and their protector. They worshipped him and gave him gifts in hopes that he’d watch over him [and guide them to a better afterlife if they were to fall in battle (that secondary function). He basically became a huge symbol for soldiers specifically and I feel like this would feed the “War God” title he was given way later on despite not actually being a War God.]

In many ancient artifacts [ones that could be found at least], the Moon Serpent would be as either a two-headed serpent or two separate beings with their horns crossed. [There’s going to be a lot of “two’s” with him. Two swords, two lives, etc. in depictions of him the two heads/bodies of the serpent would be called “the Body” and “the Spirit”. Later on he’s split into two to be sealed away in a similar theme. “Two lives” refers to the before and after his sealing as he loses his memory of his “past life” and becomes a new person (hence a different appearance). I can see Hylia having foresaw a lot of this tbh.]

[fireheartwraith]

The new eggs' ages (based on vibes) (to me) are

Sunny, 12 years old

Empanada, 7 years old

Pepito, 6 years old

So, in the full egg lineup (minus a1 and hope because i don’t know enough about them to give them an age)

Chayanne, 12 years old

Sunny, 12 years old

Juanaflippa, 11 years old — died at 6

Ramón, 10 years old

Dapper, 10 years old

Leonarda, 10 years old

Bobby, 10 years old — died at 7

Tilín, 10 years old — died at 5

Tallulah, 9 years old

Trump, 9 years old — died at 4

Pomme, 8 years old

Richarlyson, 7 years old

Empanada, 7 years old

Pepito, 6 years old

Things to keep in mind/ what this tells us

The egg island babies don’t view each other as siblings! Which is why Chay and Sunny act so differently despite being the same age. He’s an older brother, she’s an only child.

Ramón, Dapper and Leo are triplets!

It’s been 5 years since Juana, Tilín and Trump died, and 3 since Bobby.

Tallulah is older than Trump, by a couple of months (but she doesn’t know this)

Richas is now the same age Bobby was when he died

Pomme is 7 months older than Richas

The mode (? is that how you say it) of the eggs' age is 10 while they have a median age of

8.3 for the egg island babies

9.4 for the seven runaway eggs

9.6 for the Quesadilla island eggs (living and dead)

10 for the dead eggs

5.5 for the dead eggs at the time of death

9.1 for all the living eggs

9.3 for all the eggs

Edit: guys I lied. Chayanne is 14, Tallulah is 12 and Pepito is 4. I refuse to redo the math, just know that Sunny and Tallulah are the same age and that Pepito is a literal baby. TO ME

Edit 2: I did this one or two weeks after we got the egg island eggs, and since the some new canon info has come to light

Empanada is actually the older one! She reads as a 10 year old to me, and Sunny now reads as an 8 year old. Empy now have some older sister vibes so I don’t know what I was on about

While I still don’t think they viewed each other as siblings in the beginning, the egg island babies now do share this bond

We have a new baby! I think Chunsik is the youngest of the Federation issued eggs, at 6, but I don’t think Pepito is older than him. They could be the same age, though, making my initial Pepito age correct!

I still refuse to redo the math

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Okay, everyone, let’s talk Taskmaster speculation. I hate how stuff about the lineup for the following season can overshadow a season before it ends, or sometimes, like in this case, before it starts. It was around this time last year that they announced the Taskmaster season 17 studio filming dates, which perfectly coincided with some live gigs John Robins had canceled, so we all took time to get excited about that s17 lineup spoiler before season 16 had ever begun to air. Now, season 18 hasn’t started yet but we’re already talking about 19.

Spoiler alert, obviously, for vague speculation. I have no inside information or anything, so if you click through, you won’t be party to anything that’s meant to be secret. Just guesses based on publicly available information, which I know some people like to avoid, to preserve the surprise.

First of all, I find this Reddit post from a few weeks ago interesting. That obviously can’t be the exact five person lineup. First of all, Scroobius Pip would be a possible NYT candidate, probably not close enough to comedy for the main show. Secondly, obviously, all-white lineup. Thirdly, there’s no overseas person on the list, and we know from Alex’s recent interview that the season will contain that.

So it won’t be all five, but it could be a few of those. Social media evidence has been surprisingly accurate before, I remember in season 12, people accurately predicted 4/5 names before the studio filming started, just based on who’d recently followed Alex and each other. This may of course be wishful thinking on my part, that such vague social media evidence means anything, because that list contains two people who are on the shortlist of my dream contestants. Josie Long and Chris Addison would both be wonderful on there, particularly if they somehow ended up on the same season as each other.

Josie Long really should be there. She was the only women on the original Edinburgh Taskmaster in 2010, where there were a lot of men. Look at all the men in this video:

The non-Josie Long contestants there were: Dan Atkinson, Jarred Christmas, James Dowdeswell, Tim Fitzhigham, Steve Hall, Tim Key, Lloyd Langford, Mark Watson, Henning Wehn, Joe Wilkinson, Mike Wozniak, and Tom Wrigglesworth. Josie Long spent a lot of years being the "only girl in the lineup" for lots of things, between when she started stand-up in 1997 and when they invented other female comedians in 2014 (I apologize to Jo Brand for that joke, who also spent years holding it down for women on panel shows before they let women on panel shows, no women were allowed to do that stuff in the 00s unless they were named Josephine). I think she should be compensated for that in the 2020s by being allowed to appear on pretty much anything she likes.

More significantly, she was also on the second of the Taskmaster live Edinburgh shows, in 2011. See if you can spot the odd one out in the contestants from The Taskmaster 2011: Bruce Dessau, Dan Atkinson, Henning Wehn, Joe Wilkinson, Josie Long, Lloyd Langford, Mark Watson, Steve Hall, Stuart Goldsmith and Tim Key. Yes, you are right, the odd one out is Bruce Dessau, for not being a comedian. Was he ever a comedian? It did not occur to me to wonder that until right now, did most comedy reviewers start out their careers as comedians, the way most sports commentators started out as athletes in that sport? I don't know. It's not important. But if he was ever a comedian, he sure wasn't one anymore by 2011, and it is notable that when recruiting comedians for his comedy show, Alex Horne brought in the same number of reviewers who don't perform comedy, as he did of women who do perform comedy.

Obviously the odd one out in the above list is actually Josie Long, as the only woman again. And I say this one is more significant because she made the finals, where she faced off against Stuart Goldsmith in a battle of who could fit the most grapes in their mouth, administered by 2010 champion Mike Wozniak:

and she won:

Mike Wozniak won the first live Taskmaster event, and he's been on the TV show. Josie Long, by rights as a live Edinburgh Taskmaster champion, should be. In addition to her being, you know, a very talented comedian and generally funny person who would be absolutely excellent on Taskmaster.

She has now done two full shows in the last five years, and is working on a third, about how she's very very busy these days, creating and then raising two children, and has moved to Glasgow so getting down for London-based comedy shows isn't so easy, so it's possible that she's been offered a spot on previous Taskmaster seasons and turned it down, which would be fair enough. But she should definitely qualify for an offer, for a number of reasons, some of which are real (I do sort of genuinely think that winning one of the original live Taskmaster events should earn someone the chance to be part of it when it becomes a lucrative television show, but obviously far more significant is that she's a very talented comedian and generally funny person who would be absolutely excellent on Taskmaster), and some of which are not (I was joking about the reparations for female comedians who were on panel shows before that 2014 rule, mostly, I mean it does feel like they should get something).

A friend of mine noticed that some gigs she did in London, back in June, had an odd hole in them that could be shaped like the filming of Taskmaster house tasks, for someone who lives in Glasgow and, if she had to go down to London to film a TV show, would want to make the most of the trip and plan some stand-up gigs around it. That, combined with the social media evidence presented on Reddit (and the fact that she surely has more right to a spot than anyone else who's not been on it yet), makes me think there's a reasonable chance of her being on season 19. I may be starting to believe this theory a bit too much, I need to pull back on that so I won't be disappointed if it doesn't happen. It's two pieces of evidence, but they're both fairly flimsy and circumstantial.

Chris Addison was also on that list of people who've moved into Alex Horne's social media orbit, and there is, of course, lots of precedent in his Tweets for making his feelings toward that show clear. First, a couple of Tweets that let us know he's not off in Glasgow doing his own thing; if he's not been on Taskmaster it's because he's not been given the offer:

And he's tried various Twitter tactics to get that offer, including showing off his knowledge of the show:

Flattery:

Selling his potential, and reverse psychology, combined into one Tweet:

And just implying that his casting is inevitable, like that'll manifest it into existence:

Chris Addison has been campaigning for ages to get a Taskmaster spot, and I think he'd make great TV if that happened. God, imagine a team with him and Josie Long together. How excellent would that be? Oh, and if he's on season 19, that's 2/3 of The Department covered in two seasons. Only one more member of that radio show they'd still need, if only Taskmaster would suddenly decide they're interested in casting someone who lives overseas, is a big name there, but maybe still has some connection to British comedy...

No, obviously I know the "overseas contestant" to whom Alex recently referred can't be John Oliver. They'll be filming the studio portions of season 19 during the peak of the American election campaign, John Oliver's a bit busy these days to fly to England and count eggs or whatever. If it was going to happen, it would have been last year during the writer's strike, when John had just done the Horne Section TV show and could surely have fit in an NYT filming. I'd love to get my hopes up, but not this time.

I am interested in the speculation about who the American will be, though. Obviously my first thought was of Paul F. Tompkins, as he's done the Taskmaster podcast twice, both times claiming to be a huge fan of the show, and backing up that claim by frequently beating Ed Gamble at knowing Taskmaster history. He said both times that he'd love to be on it, has even though about things like what his costume would be.

He was my first thought, and then I read that he's performing in the UK in September, so that seems like a pretty strong case for him. I thought I read at some point that he was doing the Comedy Bang Bang tour and then some other gigs with a possible Taskmaster-sized hole in between, and if that were true, it would be very clear evidence, either he's doing Taskmaster or he's pranking the public into thinking he is. But upon further research I don't think that's true, he'd doing the podcast tour and that's it. I still think he's a very likely candidate, just not as clear-cut as if he were doing one thing in Britain, and then another thing with a hole in the middle. If anyone else has also read that thing that I think I read somewhere that says he's doing that, and you know what that is, please let me know because I'd like to know if I've missed something and that's true after all.

My guess for the American contestant is still Paul F. Tompkins, and I think he'd be fun. Admittedly I only know him from Bojack Horseman and those two Taskmaster podcast episodes, but I generally assume anyone who was in Bojack Horseman is probably cool (partly because that show was a masterpiece, but it's not like Paul F. Tompkins wrote it, so I think that view mainly comes from a subconscious assumption I have that anyone who's ever met Kristen Schaal has to be all right), and he was very good on those Taskmaster podcast episodes.

Either way, I think this is a good time for me to jump on the Paul F. Tompkins bandwagon. I've had his stand-up on my list of stuff to get to for ages, and I think I'll watch/listen to that stuff now. If he's on Taskmaster, then great, I've jumped on a bandwagon at the right time and I'll go in knowing more about him. If he's not, I think I'll still have a good time with his comedy, as I keep hearing how great it is. There really is a lot I don't know about American comedy.

Besides Tompkins, from the vague evidence I've seen, I think Hank Green is an outside shot at the overseas Taskmaster contestant. I don't know what Dropout is and I hope Taskmaster doesn't force me to find out.

[gothicprep]

so, apparently marvel is in disarray. ahead of the marvels coming out this weekend, variety dropped a bomb on the studio's somewhat dire state of affairs, as the franchise has hit its first real rough patch since the release of iron man 15 years ago. among the issues: jonathan majors, whose domestic violence arrest continues to hang over marvel's plans to make his character the thanos-like heavy for the next sequence of movies, the weak box office projections for the marvels (which some have said is tracking lower than recent bombs like the flash), the unending flood of hashtag content on disney plus which is overwhelming audiences who are finding it harder to keep up with the interlocking stories that have served marvel so well over the years, shoddy visual effects, spiraling budgets such as the reported $25mil an episode for she-hulk, a show that looked terrible because of the shoddy effects work aforementioned, behind the scenes chaos as kevin feige works to slash budgets and kill projects that aren't coming together. one movie at risk is the forthcoming blade reboot with mahershala ali, which has gone through rewrite after rewrite including reportedly one draft in which blade was the fourth lead in, quote, "a narrative led by women and filled with life lessons".

that last line has provided a lot of laughs for people like jay gothicprep, and critics who insist that marvel's efforts to diversify the lineup have led to much of this disaster, indicative of disney's overall failure with things like indiana jones and the dial of destiny or animated projects like strange world or lightyear. while this is potentially true (i guess, it's possible) it doesn't seem true because this certainly wasn't the case when black panther and captain marvel were both cracking the billion dollar mark a few years ago. rather it just seems, more simply, that marvel has run its course. marvel was hit by a double-whammy of endings. the thanos storyline that'd dominated the first ten or so years of the project came to an end. at the same time, the pandemic began and disney plus started flooding the zone with content, creating a natural break point for audiences that had no desire to watch hours of tv to understand 1.5 plot points in whatever the next movie that's coming out is.

this preamble is getting kind of long, and i have a lot more to say, so i'm going to continue to thought dump about this under a cut.

first of all, i'm still laughing like a week later at the women led life lessons description. no one has disputed that it happened. that description is the funniest thing i've ever read in a trade industry report possibly ever. what in the hell, my friends. did a writer even talk to a producer about what blade was? it's a movie about a guy with a sword who kills vampires! it's pretty straighforward! that sounds like something i want to see! there were three of them already, and two of them were pretty good!

anyway, i think you can take that incredibly ridiculous description of a draft that maybe wasn't the main draft – this movie has been through tons of writers and directors – and see some of the real problems with marvel's creative direction, which is that they've stopped making movies that highlight the core concepts of their characters. there are other problems as well, but when's the last time they put out a movie that was like, "iron man. he's a guy in a metal suit and he fights a bad guy." or "spider man. it's a guy in a spider suit with spider powers. he's got girlfriend problems and he fights crime around manhattan and maybe there's dr octopus." they don't do that. their recent stretch of movies have all been these impenetrable multiverse stuff with ties to tv series that you haven't seen and maybe won't ever see. there was a whole 25 minute section in black panther 2 that was setting up armor wars and ironheart. and like. who needs that sequence, which was boring and looked like total garbage? and now armor wars is being redeveloped lol. they've just departed from a lot of the core concepts that powered their earlier films.

they have some other problems. they've leaned into a slate of characters that is not all that well-known or inherently super popular, even for marvel being able to deliver on making billion dollar films out of guardians of the galaxy and such. maybe with the exception of spider man, which they don't get a full cut from because sony owns the actual movie rights. then there's the fact that the streaming series, by all accounts, aren't great but you *feel* like you need to have seen them. they're all real big problems. marvel needs to go back to making movies that are named after a character who's a superhero with a clear concept. guy with spider powers fights crime in his neighborhood. even though those movies got kind of repetitive, they did well enough because they didn't stray too far from the character concept.

i think, too, as a viewer, when you have a studio churning out so much stuff that's not good, you get the impression that the superhero industry feels entitled to your time and entitled to your money while not delivering.

this summer also represents an interesting counterpoint to what's happened with marvel and dc. the sheer amount of stuff that you devote every waking minute to keeping track of the damn things got exhausting and made movies stop feeling like events. this summer we've had barbenheimer and the eras tour, and those have been both big events and felt exciting. barbie was a chance to be campy, oppenheimer was a chance to see something serious and cinematic, the eras tour was exciting for fans of taylor swift who couldn't afford to spend $3k on taylor swift. and they felt this way because they were all unlike anything you'd seen at the movies in recent years. they had a high standard of quality, and going, it genuinely felt like people were there because they wanted to be, not because they were being force marched by a cultural behemoth to be there. you can't summon that same kind of energy for a marvel movie when it both feels obligatory and you expect it to be bad.

it also feels like there's a certain contempt for the audience where it concerns quality problems. i mean, i don't think that this is the intention. marvel isn't saying "we can deliver this stuff that's garbage and people will see it anyway". but one of the things i thought was the most damning about that variety story was the fact that, on some of the marvel tv shows, the final effects were inserted after the shows were released. so if you watched the show on opening night, you probably didn't see the final effects work. the arrogance involved in that is insane. it speaks to a total vanished pride in putting out a good product.

even some of marvel's better regarded films were heavily edited and heavily worked on right until the end, in part because kevin feige would come in and fix things, so stuff would have to get reworked. that's why effects deadlines were super tight and people were always crunching at the very end of this. there was that incredible quote from sam raimi from a couple months before the second doctor strange came out where he was like, "i think it's done but i'm not sure. marvel, they work on their movies until the very end." the director didn't even know if his own movie was locked or not because he clearly wasn't the one making the decisions about what the final print would look like.

that can work if you're making two movies a year and have a supervisor that comes in during the process and says, "i need you to redo this, in this way". but when you stretch that out to three movies a year, plus god knows how many episodes of television, there's no way to do that and make it a high quality product.

an instructive lesson comes from the book "disneywar", which chronicles michael eisner's time at disney. and one of the things in this book was the development and deployment of "who wants to be a millionaire" in america. bob iger is head of abc at this time. the guys making this show do it for a week. audiences love it. it's putting up huge numbers. everybody is excited. it's crushing it in the ratings. and the people who made it wanted to keep doing special week or two week long engagements that people would show up for. and iger was like, "no. i want this every week, three times a week, forever." and audiences got burnt out on it quickly, because it was something that only really worked as a special that ran for a week and disappeared for a few months. that's what the disney plus strategy feels like with marvel.

[ryuichirou]

OruVil HCs

Anonymous asked:

i know you don't play the game, but have you watched the new years event (the with vil)? i've recently been into your oruvil stuff and the way he dotes on and so clearly favors ortho made me think of that hehe. do you have any hcs for them? fluffy, spicy, or otherwise? (hope you're having a good day) :D

Anonymous asked:

Any thoughts on human Ortho with Vil?

Sorry for the wait, Anons, it took me some time to reply…

First of all! That New Year’s Event Vil card lives in my head not only rent-free, I pay it with my mental currency so it stays there forever. We haven’t watched this New Year’s Event (only the one with Kalim and Deuce), but we’re definitely going to do it one day. This year’s lineup is bonkers, and Sebek’s design was also great… But of course Vil is the queen lol

The fact that Vil keeps favouring Ortho and doting on him!! Thank you for lettins us know, Anon, this is the best. It makes me happy…

Alight, headcanons! Two versions, although the first bunch could work with either version of Ortho, to be honest. Maybe there was no reason to separate these two lists…

Regular Ortho

Vil really helps Ortho with his emotional development, both with the way he expresses himself and with his feelings in general. They talk about Ortho’s feelings a lot, sometimes it’s almost like Vil is both Ortho’s mentor and therapist lol But whenever Ortho suddenly starts talking about how much he likes spending time with Vil and how he wants to be closer to him, it’s always very unexpected and makes Vil’s heart beat faster.

It’s very unusual for Ortho to watch movies at the cinema and watch theatre performances, and he experienced both of these things with Vil. And while he can’t really feel pinpoint what makes the atmosphere so different and special (to him it’s all the same – just the environment is different), he has a lot of tropes in his head that he borrowed from the movies. So he’ll definitely at some point try holding Vil’s hand or even get clingy with him while watching a movie.

When Ortho got his own room, he was so excited that he invited Vil over to see it, which felt at the same time very childish and very sus of him: “let me show you my room” could have very conflicting connotations… Vil just wanted to treat him, so of course he agreed. Needless to say, the nerd den that is Ignihyde was shook to the core that day, because no one expected to see a gorgeous looking and amazingly smelling Pomefiore housewarden so up-close... the virgin igni boys got so STRESSED over the fact that Ortho brought him over, the theories ran wild for at least a week after that. Did they fuck? Did SOMEONE FUCK in THEIR DORM? The Virgin den?! Ortho, you’re such a fuckboy..!

Ortho blocks Mira sometimes. Vil doesn’t use her when Ortho is around anyway, but Ortho still doesn’t really like Mira lol Sometimes it’s almost like they have this weird rivalry.

Human Ortho

Ortho loves it when Vil styles him: wardrobe really transformed with Vil’s influence. They talk about clothes and shoes a lot, and spend a lot of time shopping together. A lot of times Vil spoils Ortho by buying him cool sneakers and jackets, but Ortho surprised Vil with designer clothes too: he’s kind of much richer than Vil anyway, so it’s only fair… and it made Vil happy…

Ortho is very clingy. Compared to the regular robot!Ortho, human!Ortho hugs Vil all the time. And it pisses everyone off, because Ortho could just sneak in, hug Vil from behind, rest his chin on Vil’s shoulder and stand like this while Vil’s explaining something to rest of the film research club. Even when Vil pushes Ortho away, he always does it in a weirdly gentle way: he scratches his head a little and then pushes him like a cat would do. While still explaining stuff to the rest of the film research club…

Ortho adores roleplay. Not only in a sexy way, but even just regularly: the moment he learned what improv was, he started to do it all the time with Vil. Of course, Vil doesn’t play along all the time, because there is time and place for everything, but he actually enjoys Ortho’s spontaneous nature when it comes to acting. Whenever Vil feels playful and gives him a “yes, and…”, Ortho gets very excited. They could play for hours… well, could’ve, but Vil is too busy for that :(

Ortho was lucky enough to receive a blowjob from Vil once, it was his birthday present (well, one of, there is no way Vil wouldn’t gifted him something else). And despite being “the hornier of two Shrouds”, it never even occurred to him how Vil would look with a dick in his mouth before. He was so happy… and way too smug afterwards lol

Despite the fact that Vil is more experienced, Ortho kind of overwhelms him when it comes to sex. He is a very fast learner, very enthusiastic, energetic and eager. Vil has a good stamina, but Ortho still leaves him absolutely exhausted after sex.

[scarlet--wiccan]

I think another thing that disappoints me about the infinity comic is the fact that there’s another “special school” comic releasing the same day every week that’s quite a bit more charming (at least imo), Avengers Academy. House of Harkness is kind of what I expected that to be, very middling and aimed at younger audiences.

Yeah... school settings are not exactly a new concept for Marvel. Outside of the obvious X-Men examples, there have now been two iterations of Avengers Academy, one of which is, as you mentioned, published on the same day as House of Harkness. Strange Academy, though not currently ongoing, delivers on the magic school concept with a great deal more charm-- and that's also series that's aimed at younger readers, I think it's just more well-realized.

I'm liking Avengers Academy a lot more than I expected-- Oliveira is one of the few writers who, I think, has a really strong grasp on the vertical format and manages to consistently deliver well-paced and engaging stories, which are a rarity on Unlimited. It's a weird lineup of characters, though, and that's evident in the friction between the decidedly middle-grade tone and occasionally very mature subject matter. I'm not criticizing the subject matter itself, but to me, that disparity is kind of awkward, and it highlights the fact that most of Unlimited's original material seems to be held back by a slightly more juvenile tone.

[snowlessknitter]

The Masked Singer: S12 E1 (Season Premiere)

Despite a hurricane getting ready to hit North Florida tomorrow (and us here in Central Florida getting effects from the feeder bands, primarily rain, wind gusts, and a heightened risk for severe weather), I’m back with my running commentary as I try to guess which celebrities are underneath the masks this season.

I have not watched a single sneak peek performance in the lead up to this season, and for the first time in a while, I’ll be going into this season pretty much blind.

As always, I am writing these as I watch the episodes and I always post before seeing any unmasking, so don’t take my guesses as spoilers. I am watching on a delay via TiVo, and have done everything to avoid spoilers online.

Let the season begin!

Buffalo 🦬: Not super-tall, they’re about the same height as Nick Cannon. Buffalo’s celebrity connection (“Masked Ambassador”) is Nick Lachey (Piglet 🐷). I see a picture of a football player kneeling or “Tebowing”, so maybe it’s Tim Tebow or someone who knows him? We see pictures of Betty White and Vanna White. He was in two major sitcoms. Wait…there’s two of them! No, three! It’s a herd of Buffalo! Now I think I have an idea who these Buffalo might be! The voices are kind of leading me in the direction of none other than Boyz II Men. The “Ambassador’s Gift” clue is: A crown. Some musical “Kings”, perhaps? Their current lineup has three members, and the kneeling football player could be a reference to their song “On Bended Knee”.

Woodpecker 🐦: Woodpecker’s Masked Ambassador is Jenifer Lewis (“Cleocatra” 🐱). She’s a “mogul”, a “chic CEO”, and friends with Beyoncé. A board reading “Family” and an SAT test sheet. The “Ambassador’s Gift” clue is: A framed picture of a “World Record”. I wasn’t picking up anything with the voice or the clues, so I’m going to consider this one “stumped” for now.

Leaf Sheep 🍃 🐑: Well, this costume is being rolled in on wheels. My first instinct is that it’s a Muppet. Their Masked Ambassador is DeMarcus Ware (“Koala” 🐨). Cowboy seahorse, a quarter, and a guitar pick labeled “#1”. So, I’m gathering this is an NFL quarterback who was a #1 draft pick who played for the Dallas Cowboys. It’s not Terry Bradshaw, he’s already been on the show (and he played for the Steelers). I’m gonna guess it’s either Tony Romo or Troy Aikman. He’ll probably be the first celebrity eliminated, but darn it, we like a trier! His “Ambassador’s Pick” clue is a trophy marked “Hall of Fame”. I’m going with Troy Aikman because he was a Hall of Fame QB who played for the Dallas Cowboys. I can’t remember if he was a #1 draft pick.

Showbird 🦤: It’s a flashy dodo! Their Masked Ambassador is Joel McHale (not an official contestant, but a regular guest judge). Says she was a tomboy and a nerd. A judge’s gavel, so she might have been a judge on a singing competition? I’m not immediately picking up on her voice. Their “Ambassador’s Gift” clue is a bucket of popcorn. I’m also “stumped”. But I think she’s sticking around this week.

Ship ⛵️: Their Masked Ambassador is Jewel (“Queen of Hearts” 👸 ❤️). A clock in the shape of a plane. A “Wanted” sign, and their career started quickly. So I’m guessing somebody who came up around the same time as Jewel. I’m thinking someone from the Lilith Fair set. I don’t quite know if it’s Sarah McLachlan, but the voice is leaning more towards Paula Cole. The “Ambassador’s Gift” clue is a glittery cowboy hat. I’m gonna go with Paula Cole right now, because the cowboy hat makes me think of Paula’s song “Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?”. Paula’s in her fifties now and her singing voice might be a little deeper now than it was in the ‘90s, but I think the tone and the higher notes do kinda match.

[authurials]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 ... 2/5

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 . aemond had never allowed himself to covet--not until now that is

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 . one / three / four / five

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 . 18+ situations ( MINORS DNI ! ), unintentional voyeurism, solo masturbation, accidental exhibitionism, strong language

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . here is day four of my 12 days of house of the dragon celebration and part two of my aemond targaryen x f!reader miniseries! things are heating up between the two would-be-lovers already and we still have three parts to go. what do you think is going to happen next? i’ve decided to take the day off tomorrow from writing and posting so i can recharge a bit after a particularly exhausting week of work--i also have some last minute christmas shopping to do AND other errands so i’m feeling a tad overwhelmed; this does mean my helaena one-shot has been dropped from the lineup but i’ve decided to revamp the idea and write it at a later date when i feel more inspired to write for my girl. on sunday you’ll be getting part two to my harwin x reader miniseries, candy cane! so be sure to stay tuned and let me know your thoughts on what you’ve read so far; also, finished this right around midnight but i’m still counting it for the 16th lmao

𝐏𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 . white rose

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒 tucked into the waist pocket of your apron, a delightfully pinkish red camelia that you had found on one of the garden benches during your usual rounds. One might just assume that it had happened upon the stone bench in an act of nature, but you knew better–you knew it had been put there specifically for you. The camelia was only one of many you had been happening across for nearly a fortnight, starting with the lily of the valley in your chamber. Since then you had received some azaleas, baby’s breath, begonias, and your favorite, bleeding hearts; there were others as well, each placed carefully in a beautiful arrangement on your bedside table. Some were beginning to wilt from lack of sunshine while the newer ones still had a few days left in them, their sweet smelling scents mingling perfectly together like their own brand of perfume. At first, you had assumed it was one of the younger gardeners under your father leaving you the flowers or perhaps one of the hedge knights that frequented the grounds trying to secure patronage in the capital. None of them had quite caught your eye as a potential secret admirer however, at most they merely threw polite smiles your way before they moved along and out of your life forever.

As you passed a handsome bronze-haired boy, you instinctively glanced over your shoulder to assess his form, catching his eye as he did the same. Again, there was that polite smile as he nodded his head in acknowledgement, simply turning to face forward once more as he continued on his way. Sighing, you did the same, not having felt anything when you took note of the color of his eyes or the dimple in his cheek. He was quite good-looking, you would admit, but there was no resounding connection that stayed with you as you carried on about your rounds in the garden. No, you would be able to tell if you happened upon your secret admirer whether that be by chance or on purpose; you knew he would reveal himself eventually, why wouldn’t he? But you couldn’t deny that you were a bit impatient to know who it was.

Thoughts consumed with flowers and speculation, you took no note of the fact that you had an extra shadow on that day; not far behind you, separated from your person by a thick row of blooming pale pink carnations, walked a certain one-eyed prince. Making sure to stay enough behind you so that you wouldn’t take easy note of his presence, Aemond followed you with his hands folded behind his back; singular eye locked on you, a slight smirk curved his lips as he took in your dreamy expression. You softened in his absence, no longer cold and guarded as you walked the familiar tended paths of the royal garden; and each day since the lily of the valley, he had come to watch you if only for a short time before tending to his other duties–if only to assure himself that you’d received his latest gift. And sure enough he saw the newest bloom he had picked earlier in the dew-lit morning peeking out of the pocket of your apron skirt, its petal bobbing gently with each step you took. The camelia had called to him that day, a symbol of his growing affections for the sharp-tongued and quick-witted girl who had beguiled him with her boldness–with her audacity.

He wanted to break you, to have you desire him as he desired you–a fire so intense that it was maddening, an obsession that if left unchecked threatened to consume him completely. As a boy it had been but a childish sort of like, a pointless crush that he had forgotten about until the moment he saw you again. Never had he dared to hope, to dream, to covet such a thing that was supposed to be below him–not until now; now all he did was covet and desire as he followed you deeper into the gardens, your path clearly taking you to the greenhouse and workshop your father kept. When you were children you would take him there after much convincing on your part and show off all the new seedlings your father was trying to grow so he could incorporate them into the gardens; most were incredibly rare specimens, shipped all the way from Pentos and Essos and perhaps even further. You’d prattled off all that your father had told you about them, eidetic memory storing such information as if it were a precious tome that needed safe-keeping, all the while gripping tightly to Aemond’s hand with your small sweaty one. It had disgusted him at times, but for some reason he rarely found it in himself to pull away, especially when you would look over your shoulder at him with that crooked smile.

Stopping where the row of carnations ended, Aemond watched you continue on without him, not a care in the world as you hummed a melancholy tune; just as you were about to disappear from his view, he took note of the way you plucked the camelia from your pocket, head turning just enough to the side so he saw how you lifted it to your nose to sniff it. Smirk widening, he backed away slowly and turned to leave, assured that his plan was taking proper effect. All he needed to do now was reveal himself to you as your ‘secret admirer’--he knew you had been searching, eyes thoughtful as of late as you would take in your surroundings, waiting for your faceless would-be-lover to reveal himself. You were ready to know, that he was certain of, he just needed to set the scene appropriately before revealing himself to you–

But first, he had other less interesting obligations to attend to courtesy of his ever helpless family.

Leaving the gardens, he headed to the Tower of the Hand where his mother and grandfather were supposed to be awaiting his arrival. He knew he was late and usually that was unfounded for him–always the responsible one, the dutiful son, the wasted potential of a second born prince; however for once he could not find it in himself to care, as duty had become tasteless in his mouth, his mother’s praise and love no longer enough to satiate himself upon. He wanted–no, needed–more and he was determined to see himself filled no matter the cost.

He was let into his mother’s solar by Ser Criston Cole, who ever dutifully bowed his head to his star pupil; unlike the other times when he would’ve respectfully nodded back to his mentor, Aemond averted his eyes and simply gave a tense bow of his head as he moved past the Dornish man. He did not miss the way the older man frowned in confusion, dark gaze following him into his grandfather’s solar before closing the door once more. The Targaryen prince, although firm in his intentions, could not help but feel a bit guilty knowing that his newfound selfishness would disappoint the man who had been more of father to him then his own ever had. He had looked up to kingsguard his whole life, admiring the honorable way in which the man protected and respected his mother unlike the other men in her life who had neglected to do so; if Aemond had not known any better he would’ve said Criston was in love with the queen, but he did know better and knew with a certainty that the relationship between the knight and his mother ran no deeper than a shared fondness and treasured friendship. It made the young man feel guilty because in a way he was betraying the rapport he had created thus far with his teacher, years of trust diminished in the short period of time it had taken Aemond to cast away the virtue of duty for the sin of lust.

“Mother,” he greeted respectfully, bowing once more to the pious woman who sat stiffly as always in the area by the lit fireplace; nearer to the hearth stood his grandfather, who greeted his grandson with a nod and his name. “Grandfather. You both wanted to see me?”

He already had his suspicions before Otto even opened his mouth, having known for months what the man and the other small council members were plotting behind his and his father’s own backs. Viserys was too weak to really be coherent of much of anything at this point, kept numb and docile by copious amounts of milk of the poppy; he hadn’t been of use for quite some time, Aemond’s grandfather and mother taking up in his stead to rule things as they saw fit–hiding behind the guise of doing the king’s bidding. It was quite hard to do his bidding when the decaying corpse of man couldn’t even string together a full sentence, instead speaking in a broken language one often had to decode–Aemma and Rhaenyra among some of his favorite words. Aemond resisted the urge to curl his lip in disgust as he listened to what Otto had to say, though he was already calculating his rebuttal in his head.

“Your mother and I have been discussing it with the small council,” the older man hummed, “and we believe it is high time you were engaged to marry. We’ve already begun discussions with Lord Borros Baratheon in regards to one of his four lovely daughters–”

“And what if I do not wish to marry?” Was Aemond’s reply, hands folding behind his back as he glanced between his grandfather and mother, who had already begun to pick nervously at her hands as she formulated her response carefully.

“Aemond,” she begun, “we understand these things are not always desirable but–”

“But it is your duty to the family to secure a good match,” Otto interjected, “and garner more support for your brother’s claim.”

Of course, Aemond thought bitterly to himself, it is always about that drunk’s claim. But what of my own?

He studied the histories and philosophies of their predecessors, he practiced the art of the sword, he had sacrificed time and time again for his family; but still, his efforts would forever be only those of a second born son, a curse in and of itself–a constant mark against his person no matter how hard he tried to escape his destiny. Had it ever crossed any of their mind’s that he might make a better fit for king than his older brother? Who other than the fact of being born first was even more ill-suited for the crown than their whoring cunt of a half-sister or her brood of bastards. Aemond was sure that it had, but due to damnable tradition he would forever be passed over for Aegon, just as he had when Helaena and his brother were betrothed; he had had no desire to marry his sister, but he would’ve done it if only to ensure she was not doomed to a loveless and cruel marriage to that drunkard.

“Your grandfather is right,” Alicent nodded, standing up from her spot on the settee. “We will need Lord Borros’ support and to ensure it we have to create a strong alliance. The man’s father might have sworn to Rhaenyra, but that was years ago and it is my understanding that the man is less concerned with hollow oaths and more concerned with seeing his daughters to profitable martial matches. What better one than that of a prince?”

“I do not wish to marry one of the storms, mother,” Aemond frowned. “Besides, it is my understanding that they take after their father in both looks and intellect; I’d rather not have my future children be burdened with dull minds and plain faces.”

“Aemond!” The queen admonished.

“I merely–” Aemond began to defend himself.

“Enough,” Otto snapped, mouth set in a firm line. “You stand there and insult Lord Borros and his daughters, one of which will be your betrothed. It is foolish of you to believe that you have any say in the matter; you will do as your mother and I have bid you for your father–the king–has already given his blessing to the offer. We simply wished to let you know as a courtesy before sending word to the Stormlands.”

A pause and then a laugh–

Aemond tossed back his hair, chuckle passing through the column of his throat and vibrating there as he smiled amusedly at his grandfather. The other man’s frown deepened and he took a step forward as if to further reprimand his grandson, perhaps he even intended to put his hands on Aemond. Alicent, ever the level-headed one, placed her hand on her father’s arm as her lips pressed into a thin line, worry etched forever in the plains of her forehead.

“Aemond–” She began softly.

“You are the foolish one, grandfather,” he cut her off, laughter dying out as he continued, “if you believe that you can tell a dragon what to do; you have power because we allow you to not based on your own merit, though I will commend you for your cleverness and confidence.”

“How dare you–” Otto snapped.

“No,” Aemond shot back, taking a dangerous step forward as his hands fell to his side, clenched into readied fists. “How dare you think you could go behind my back and decide my fate for me! How dare you lecture me about duty and sacrifice as if I have no idea what it means to bleed for this family?! I have already given so much–my mind, my sword, my eye–and still it is not enough for you?”

He laughed again, this time more cruelly as he backed away and paced across the room, eyes once more finding Criston’s who remained by the door. The latter had a disapproving frown on his lips–of course he did; the man was just as chained to the concept of duty as Aemond had found himself to be not that long ago. To him and the others–Aemond’s mother and grandfather–he was foolish to believe that one’s wishes should trump that of obligation and perhaps at one point the prince himself believed that to be so as well. But not anymore–not when he was so close to tasting the forbidden fruit he had denied himself for so long–

Not when he almost had you, his flower.

“Let us speak civilly about this, Aemond,” his mother urged, walking over to his side and reaching for his hand. “I know that it does not always feel like your efforts have been recognized, but know that they have and that I am grateful for your dedication to this family. Aemond–”

She paused when he pulled his hand away, turning his body to the side so that he did not have to look at her directly, the set of his jaw tense as he turned his head to the side to let her know he was at least still listening.

“You have always been so….agreeable,” she continued, trying to find the right words, “when it came to what has been expected of you in the past. What has changed, my dear boy?”

He could not tell her, not yet when things were still in motion and he did not have you fully yet; there was still the chance, however slim he hoped it to be, that you would reject him and he would not be made a fool to you and his family if that were to happen. Even absent his desire for you the repulsion he felt at the prospect of marrying one of the Baratheon daughters did not waver; he had never met them nor did he have any wish to do so, not wanting to give any of them the false hope that they might be able to bewitch a dragon. It was too late for him anyways, after all he had fallen under your spell long ago.

“Perhaps,” he found himself saying, finally glancing between his pale faced grandfather and his mother who now worried her bottom lip between both rows of her teeth, “I simply do not wish to be an animal caged in a loveless and dull marriage as I have seen my loved one subjected to.”

It was a dig at the sham of the unions of first his mother and father and now his brother and sister; both pairs forced into proximity to one another in an act of his grandfather to secure Hightower blood on the throne. Aemond knew his mother held no love for his father, not as a wife should a husband anyways, and perhaps Aegon and Helaena could’ve cared for each other as siblings if they had not been used as pawns by those who should’ve protected them. And now the pieces were moving across the board once more, and it was Aemond’s turn to be sent forward as fodder for his grandfather’s ambitions.

“Perhaps,” he adds, the hint of a smile curving his lips, “I have found something that I desire more than your fleeting approval for once, mother.”

He had always known her love was conditional, that to be the golden son in her eyes one must forgo their own happiness; but even that was no longer enough for the queen it seemed as she grew desperate to secure her eldest son’s claim to a throne he had no business sitting upon. No matter what Aemond did he would never have her favor, he would never be enough, because he was a second son and that’s all he ever would be.

It was time that he accepted that.

Without another word, he turned to leave, striding towards the door even as Alicent called after him tearfully, shaking hand coming up to cover her quivering mouth. His grandfather’s voice joined her, demanding that he stop and even commanding Criston make him, but for once the knight defied orders and instead simply bowed his head to the prince as he strode past; there seemed to be something in his eyes akin to understanding, as if he too understood what it was to be held in limbo between desire and duty.

And perhaps he had; as Aemond opened the door to his mother’s solar and walked through, he recalled something Criston had said to him many years ago–about how he had once coveted something that he could not have and how filled with too much pride he had rejected the only way in which to possess it–

A choice he did not regret until many years too late.

Aemond refused to have such regrets hanging over his head.

•°•❀•°•

𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 tucked under a white rose in your bedroom again, wanting to ensure that it would not be disturbed by just any passerby nosy enough to pick it up. It read as follows: meet me in the east private gardens when the moon is highest in the sky. Simple enough. And it gave him enough time to rid himself of the residual anger that still pulse through his blood, thrumming most prominently at the vein in his neck. With no other obligations–at least ones he wasn’t willing to snub–he found himself spending the rest of the day avoiding the gardens in exchange for the quiet of the library. He did not want to risk running into you before you saw his note and came to the garden to meet your faceless secret admirer that night; fearful he was that you might see the truth upon his face somehow and the big reveal would be ruined.

It was terribly romantic, or at least he thought so as he settled into a secluded section with a book he had already read two or three times before. His mind was not of the disposition that day to retain any new information, hyperfocused on the task at hand; he obsessed over every possible outcome as his eyes skimmed over the words, not really taking them in as he tried to prepare himself for any possible scenario. What would he do if you truly did reject him? He didn’t believe himself to be a broken hearted type, but it would surely gut him in some way if you held not even the slightest inclination towards him. Or on the other, what would he do if you did end up holding a desire similar to his own? He was not well versed when it came to concerns of the flesh, though he found himself more often than not as of late imagining what coupling with you would be like if he were to be presented with the chance.

His singular sexual experience was one he would rather forget–a forced-upon-him trip to the Street of Silk courtesy of Aegon and his wiles. It had been to make him a man–at least that’s how his brother had rationalized it afterwards, when a three and ten Aemond had stumbled out of the brothel the next day, fleeing as Aegon tried to keep him. Time to get it wet, that is what he had said as he clapped the younger boy on the back the night before, guiding him towards the establishment���s offerings; words that haunted the prince to this day and to which he tried his best to push away in that moment, instead replacing them with happier thoughts of you.

Sighing, he closed his book and laid it against his chest, leaning his head back as he closed his eyes; he thought of the small, coy smile you had given him that day in the garden when he had confronted you after all those years. It alone aroused something inside of him in its memory, fire only fueled as he continued to recall more details of you on that day. The dress you wore had been plain, the uniform red of a royal servant, a white robe dirtied by the work in the gardens thrown over it; your hair had been bound, pulled away from your face aside from a few rebellious strands that he didn’t know whether he wanted to fist and pull at or tuck behind your ear in a gesture of tenderness. The glint in your eye; the curve of your lips, the silhouette of your figure–

Shifting uncomfortably, Aemond began to feel the familiar tightening in his leathers, cursing internally as he sighed and ran a hand over his face. Never before had he been the type to so spontaneously harden at the mere thought of a pretty girl; it was not unfounded completely, no, but nor had it been as frequent as it had of late. He of course blamed you and his lack of self-control, the reluctance to delay gratification a constant struggle he battled with.

Setting the book aside, he hesitated a moment as he sat up, hands flexing upon his thighs as he glanced at the space between his legs before assessing his surroundings; there had been no one in the library when he had first entered and he was sure no one had made their way in ever since. Although he was tucked away from the entrance, he was positive he would be able to hear if someone were to come in and even though it was a risky move he found himself oddly thrilled at the element of danger. It would do him no good, after all, to walk to his chambers in such a state he rationalized to himself as his right hand rubbed up his thigh and to the growing bulge at the front of his leathers.

Groaning, he gave in and leaned back as his hand closed over the outline of his cock, gripping it firmly and rubbing in slow methodical circles. His legs shifted, opening wider as he adjusted his position to a more comfortable, ass hanging off the edge of the seat he was in as he kicked his feet out. Heel of his boots digging into the firm ground so he could gain purchase and have better control of his hips, which squirmed under his hand’s ministrations as he let his mind wander.

He imagined you there with him, sitting to his side, your hand replacing his as it stroked over his clothed member; fingers teasing the laces at the front, he licked his lips as he saw you in his head leaning in to press kisses to the arch of his neck, leaving teasing bites as you began to undo the front of his trousers. His own mirrored your movements, except for the way he impatiently yanked at the laces while you moved slowly, not a care in the world as you focused all your attention on him. It made him feel revered, worshiped as your pressed kisses down the column of his throat, hand sliding inside to grip at his cock finally; a soft gasp left his lips as you gave it a few good tugs, matching his rhythm before pulling it out and exposing the turgid flesh to the cool air of the room. It should’ve been a relief, it was a relief, but only a temporary reprieve as Aemond continued stroking himself at a good pace; he pressed his feet into the floor, hips rocking in tandem with his touch as he thrusted into his fist. Only for a moment did he pull away, depravedly spitting into his own hand before returning it to his now fully hard and weeping erection; his strokes quickened as he panted breathlessly, head lilting back uselessly as he lost himself to the debauchery of it all.

Soon enough his leathers were wrapped around his ankles, restricting his movement as the scene shifted in his mind, imagining you taking him into your mouth. He grunted, trying to conjure up how the delicious cavern of mouth upon him would feel–hot, wet, blissfully suffocating–but it was futile; he would simply have to make do with the slick slide of his hand along his length as a poor imitation until he could bring you to bed–if he could bring you to bed. Growling at the thought of your rejection, he quickened his strokes, fucking the tight vice of his fist as he pushed such worries away; in his fantasy at least you were compliant and wanting, mouth hungry as you suckled at the root of his cock, hand fondling the heavy weight of his balls as they tightened. He gripped them harshly, the tightness bordering on painful as they drew up against his body, the end close.

“Fuck,” he cursed, squeezing his erection as he tried to delay the inevitable; your name slipped over his tongue and past his lips, saying it like a prayer as he teetered on the edge. He said it like a plea, begging his cock not to spill so soon as he wanted to drown there in his desire for just a little bit longer.

His body did not heed his words, however, as soon it was stiffening, hips arching off the chair and staying there as the first stream of his release shot pitifully out of the tip of his cock, landing on the lapels of his trousers and the lower half of his vest. Gasp locked deep in his throat, all he could do was simply tilt his head back, singular eye closed tightly as he watched himself hold you down as he spilled inside of your mouth. In an ideal world, you would accept his seed like an offering, swallowing it all down gratefully as you continued to suckle at his softening cock like it was a rare delicacy and you had yet to have your fill–nothing went to waste. Sighing, he continued to jerk himself to the prospect, tongue coming out to swipe across his lower lip as he felt his cum begin to drip onto his hand; only when the last of his release had finished did he loosen his hold on his penis, letting fall uselessly against his dirtied trousers as he slowly came down from the high. 

It had been thrilling, he had to admit to, doing such a private act in the communal area of the library, the threat of being caught some kind of fucked up aphrodisiac. He almost wanted to get caught, to be happened upon in such a compromising state, to be watched while he–

He turned his head in the midst of his wicked thoughts, eye catching the familiar hue of yours as everything came to a halt; for a moment he thought–hoped–that you were still simply a figment of his imagination, but when he saw the shock written plainly on your face and the way your lips parted as you realized you were caught he knew that this was not a part of his fantasy. You were really standing there in the library before him, bearing witness to his secret shame, and he wondered when you had stumbled upon him–how long had you watched him defile himself?

Before either of you could utter a word, Aemond watched you bolt, gripping the skirts of your dress as you hurried from the room. Cursing, he quickly pushed his cock back inside his trousers, struggling with the laces as he attempted to right himself and stumble to catch. Your name left his lips again as he begged you to stay, commanding you to stop when his pleas went unanswered, the door slamming shut behind you as you slipped out of the library. Ignoring how filthy he was, pearly white cum already beginning to harden and stain his clothes, he followed you out into the hallway only to realize that you had already disappeared. Unsure of which way you had gone, he stood there for a moment and considered his chances of catching up with you; frowning as he realized it was futile, he turned on his heel and went back inside, the door once more slamming shut behind him.

He could only hope that you showed at the garden that night so that he might explain himself; although how he could he did not know quite yet. It proved unnecessary however for as midday finally turned to night and Aemond found himself waiting in a patch of white roses in the private area of the gardens, minutes turned to hours and still you made no appearance. And yet he waited as time passed him by, eventually laying back in the flowers as he allowed their sickly sweet scent to envelop him, the starry sky hanging overhead as he drifted slowly to sleep.

[kabillieu]

Last night, Everclear, Fuel, and Hoobastank performed as part of a tour they do together for military bases all over the U.S. I do not care about Fuel or Hoobastank, but I was really excited to see Everclear. I believe I have mentioned this on here and to everyone including, recently, my hairdresser and neighbor.

My big kid's annual spring school carnival was also last night at the same time. I asked Dominic to verify the lineup, and he was told that Everclear was performing last, so I took big kid to his school event, planning to stay an hour and then join my spouse and baby at the show.

Well, Everclear went first and I missed them. I'd been listening to them all week, mostly their second and third albums, but also some newer stuff I had never bothered to listened to. I was really looking forward to seeing them live.

It was important to take my big kid to his school event because he was looking forward to it. He was especially looking forward to seeing his friend from school, and I always try to support him when he's doing social stuff since that can be an issue for him. It was the right thing to do, he had a good time, but it still smarts to miss Everclear!

I've been thinking for weeks now about why I've been so excited to see a minor alternative rock band that I haven't thought about much since 1997. I listened to their album So Much for the Afterglow a lot, and there were a lot of songs off that album that got radio play, so obviously it's super nostalgic. But also, I taped "Santa Monica" off the the radio when I was 14, back when that's how you got access to music if you couldn't afford to buy it. You would just hang out in your room with the radio on and then haul ass over to your tape player to press record when a song you liked came on. I listened to "Santa Monica" over and over again on my walkman on a road trip with my family to New Orleans that summer. I loved the lyrics, the way it started slow and then picked up, the idea of leaving everything behind. Most of my teenage life I wanted to leave everything behind. Super common stuff for an angsty teenager, but Art Alexakis's songs spoke to that specific yearning. That was the first time I had ever been to New Orleans, and as I walked around the city with my family I thought about how fun it would be to come back in a few years with friends. And then I did. I spent years visiting friends in New Orleans. I spent years hanging out with Brooke and Dale.

In college, Dominic, Brooke, Dale, and I went to see Art Alexakis in Dothan for a solo set. I don't remember much about the music, but I do remember being with my friends. Art Alexakis had an extremely troubled childhood. He grew up in abject poverty. His sibling and girlfriend died very, very young from overdoses. He overdosed and almost died too, and then he cleaned up. All of his best songs have very sad lyrics laid over upbeat guitar, somewhere between post-grunge and pop rock. He has many songs about running away to a better life, about being fatherless, about how much he loves his children, about how things aren't good and maybe never will be.

My friend Dale died from alcohol addiction two years ago. It had been Brooke's idea to take Dale to go see Art Alexakis in Dothan. She kept it a surprise. It must have been a nice show, but I don't remember it. I do remember eating arroz con pollo with my friends beforehand.

Things don't stay the same. They keep changing, but you also have to live fully in a life where bad things have happened to you. That's something that all my favorite Everclear songs know. Art Alexakis is 62 now, and I asked Dominic how he sounded, and he said he sounded 62. I wish I could have gotten to see him. But I needed to be a good parent to my big kid, and that's something that I think Art Alexakis would appreciate.

[stationerybear]

A Thank You to the Hobonichi Weeks

A few months ago I started using a Hobonichi Weeks as my everyday planner that I bring with me to create to-do lists and and keep track of events and appointments, something I desperately need to stay organized. I intended to use the Weeks to see if it would be a feasible catch-all notebook to put all of my planning, journaling, and tracking in next year. However, I don't think the Weeks is the right fit for me, but it did help me discover that an all-in-one book is not what I need.

I wanted to use the notes pages in a Weeks (Mega) next year for daily entries and gratitude logs, the same way that I use daily pages in my A6 Hon this year. In my experimentation with transcribing daily entries onto the notes pages, I discovered that I kind of hate writing daily entries in the Weeks lol. And I don't think I would be able to fit all of my trackers and goals from my rings planner into the Weeks note pages along with daily entries. I think it would become too cluttered and disorganized. Plus, I don't like the formatting/layout of those spreads in the Weeks pages, as picky as that sounds.

Trying to use the Weeks in this way has made me realize that I've already basically found "planner peace" with my current system. The layout of the A6 Hon's pages lends itself to how I like to write my journal entries and daily gratitude. I may not be writing every day, but it is the most consistent I have ever been with a journal. I still love the book and writing in it when I have the motivation to fill a page. I also love using my rings journal as a creative/decorative outlet the way I have used bullet journals in the past, while also still remaining functional. The system that I currently have works for me, and it works well. I recently became so preoccupied with wanting to condense everything for some reason that I lost sight of the joy my current notebooks and planning process brings me. So for 2025, I plan to continue using my rings planner as I currently do, and I hope to soon order another A6 Hon (the Crescent Moon Delivery version since it is my favorite design of the 2025 lineup and as an homage to the similar design of the Weeks I have been using).

As for the Weeks, I have greatly enjoyed using it as my everyday planner. However, I can't find it in my heart (or wallet) to justify buying two books from Hobonichi for 2025. Hobonichi products are certainly a luxury in my opinion, and while I can allow myself the luxury of the Hon, I don't really feel the need to splurge on the Weeks in addition. On the bright side, I believe I have found a more affordable alternative to the Weeks through Kinbor. I found a few YouTube videos reviewing the books and comparing them as adequate Hobonichi dupes, and I was very compelled by this cheaper alternative. I've already ordered the Cat Cafe Weeks-sized planner and look forward to receiving it in the mail soon :3

It should he arriving near the end of this month/beginning of November. I'd like to test the paper in the notes section before using it for next year since many reviews I watch compared the paper to Tomoe River Paper used in Hobonichi books (I don't know if there is any confirmation if it is indeed TRP or not, but it seems very similar in quality and feel at least). I believe the paper is also a brighter white color than the cream colored paper used in the Hobonichi Weeks, which I think I will personally like more.

All this is to say that while the Weeks may not have been what I wanted as an all-in-one book, I still enjoyed the time I've spent with it the last few months. I'm glad that I'll have it to finish out the year, and I'd like to thank this book for helping learn more about myself, my wants, and my needs. 💜

[dandelionsandderivatives]

American girl reviews: Cécile and Marie-Grace

I posted a few weeks ago about rereading some of the American Girl books, and I've been wanting to type up my thoughts about some of them.

American Girl has made some of their Black-history-centered books available as free ebooks online, so once I'd read through the books on my shelf, I decided to go see what they had available.

Cécile and Marie-Grace were introduced after I'd aged out of American Girl, but I had beloved younger relatives who were still very invested in the franchise, and so I picked up and read their books pretty soon after they came out. I remembered almost nothing about them, other than the switching-places-at-the-ball plot, and that I didn't find them particularly engaging.

On a reread, I think the series really suffers from the shared POV; I think it could have been done well, but the pacing is dreadful. The events of Meet Cécile and Meet Marie-Grace are almost exactly the same; there are multiple places where we see a scene from Marie-Grace's point of view, and then we have to reread it from Cécile's point of view in the very next book. Essentially, by the time we get to Marie-Grace and the Orphans, we're halfway through the series and nothing has happened. This issue continues through the books; there are a few places where we see something from one character's perspective, and then we wait till the next book to find out what the other character thought about it. This could be a fun way to build suspense, but in my opinion it usually feels anticlimactic (as there really isn't much personal drama between the two girls).

To be clear, I don't think this is a character issue; I think the idea of having a shared POV is inherently difficult, and AG bit off more than it could chew. The other series with best friends get seven books (six for the main character and one for the best friend), and I think they would have done well to add another book to the series. Maybe start with Meet Marie-Grace and Cécile (or perhaps Meet Cécile and Marie-Grace), and then arrange the series like so:

Meet Marie-Grace and Cécile

Cécile has an adventure (MG helps)

Marie-Grace has an adventure (Cécile helps)

Cécile and Marie-Grace team up to save Christmas!

Marie-Grace has another adventure (Cécile provides moral support)

Cécile has another adventure (MG provides snacks)

Changes for Cécile and Marie-Grace

This way you'd get less repetition and a bit more character development, and the book series might as well be a bit longer, since this is a New And Different Way To Approach American Girl Dolls.

As for the subject matter of the books, I don't think I had many complaints; at least, none that couldn't be fixed by giving the characters a bit more room to develop. I think a Black character with a wealthy family was a good addition to the lineup, and the interracial friendship was great! I just wish they'd had more story, rather than retelling a shorter story multiple times.

I also. . . don't think the art helped much. I'm not much of an artist, so it could be that I'm just not getting what the art was trying to do, but it looked oddly flat to me?

The collection was also a bit weird. I absolutely love the 1850s; they might be my favorite fashion decade ever. Everything Marie-Grace and Cécile wear is technically accurate, but all of it appears to be cut with no regard to how things drape in doll scale? Marie-Grace's blue two-piece dress, for example, looked really off to me because the sleeves are an odd in-between length. The basque bodice she's wearing is certainly an 1850s-appropriate style (and the collar is white, NOT self-fabric, which a lot of people get wrong), but generally you see that style with long sleeves, not short! I was able to find at least one period photo with a similar cut, so it's fine, but it still looks *off* to me. (I also suspect it's a more adult-woman style rather than a little-girl style, but I'm not 100% sure.)

Cécile's parlor outfit has the same issue: it's a darling idea, and the print on the skirt is to die for, and the jacket is cute – except the sleeve length, which looks awkward in every picture I've seen of it. And again, I don't think you usually see a short-sleeved jacket over a white waist like this? I'm not saying never; I'm just saying it sets off alarm bells.

Especially when Addy has a darling little Zouave jacket with proper pagoda sleeves in her school outfit. AG has managed to produce good mid-century sleeves in the past.

And all of the outfits I've seen just look a little off. The necklines are too high or too low, the sleeves are the wrong length, etc. Marie-Grace has two pink dresses that look similar enough that I'm shocked AG decided to put both into production.

I haven't seen any of the furniture in person. The stock photos make it all look rather plasticky and flat, but maybe it was really nice in person?

Final verdict: Cécile deserved better. Marie-Grace deserved better. It's been only a few weeks since I read them but I don't remember what Cécile's favorite food is, or what she liked to do other than sing and hang out with Marie-Grace.

I do like the parrot, though.

[valdangelodreams]

AU #5 royal flush

Happy pride, college is destroying me slowly, but my mind persists

anyways!

-Roylaty au obvs, but not like, acurate in any way

-maybe high fantasy? Unclear, y'all can choose your spices this time

-ok, so they're both princes

-Leo's kingdom has this tradition, where they invite eligible bachelors from all over to participate in a challenge

-this challenge consists on the visiting bachelors figuring out who's the real prince/princess out of a group of noble-blooded candidates from the different families in the kingdom

-if they guess correctly they are then allowed to marry into the royal family

-those that guess incorrectly have the chance to form an arrangement with whichever noble they favored during the challenge

-for this to work, Leo's kingdom is incredibly mysterious and vague about their young royals, hiding information from tourists and other visits

-still, Leo gets himself a reputation under a pseudonym, and this eventually causes his name to be known

-people also know that the prince doesn't use the same surname as the King

-so when the day comes for Leo to find a partner, a whole crowd of hopeful suitors gathers at his kingdom

-enter Nico, who's not likely to get to the throne of his country due to his position in the succession line, and who doesn't want to get married to a woman

-if he wins the challenge he could become a king consort once Leo (whom Nico knows only by name) becomes king

-on the first day, the crowd gets introduced to a lineup of nobles all within the age range of the prince

-also all candidates are introduced as Lord [surname]. Their names remaining hidden until the last day of the festivities

-bc obvs the kingdom prepared a bunch of things for the suitors to do during their stay

-a lot of the activities also serve as way of showcasing the different candidates strengths and weaknesses (ie: hints)

-now, on that first day, everyone in attendance breaks into groups approaching the candidate they think is most likely to be the prince

-Nico, however, notices one candidate in particular is being overlooked, and as he keeps looking he notices a few other details that make him curious

-he decides to take a gamble and approaches the candidate (Leo ofc)

-what follows is a week (or month, or idk some time period that makes sense) of events that make the two grow closer

-in one of the events, one of the candidates is an asshole to some townsfolk and Leo goes off on him, which cements to Nico that he has it right

-it also hints a few of the people that had been following that particular candidate

-the in between escapes me, but I know it ended with a masquerade ball where the candidates were finally revealed

-that's all I have

[corndoggod]

Walkie Talkie

It’s Wednesday evening, about an hour of sun left, and I’m walking down to the old penthouse in Flatbush to retrieve my new apartment keys. It’s moments like these — walking, doing dishes, a 30 min break between meetings — that I’d call my Dad. 

I can hear his excitement picking up the phone: Connor boy! We’d start with the weather. It’s a beautiful day here, I’d say. One of those days where the weather can’t quite decide what it wants to be, flitting between big blue sun and sudden gray with spastic rain. 

I’d tell him I’ve been running more and that I think I’m gonna sign up for a marathon near Albany with the goal of qualifying for Boston. It’s a friendly qualifier, according to Google, and we have some friends nearby we could stay with. I’d tell him I saw Chris Hayes on my lunch run — he was walking his dog in his PJs on a work cal. I knew it was a work call because I knew when his editorial team met to discuss the evening lineup. And that’s not all. This was actually my second sighting of Hayes. The first being at a bar in Gowanus before I really worked in media. How rare to encounter the same celeb twice in the New York wilderness? 

I’d tell him about bowling, though surely he would’ve called the following day to hear how we did in the playoffs. I’d regret to inform him we lost in the first round to a team of toxic old creepers. But I bowled well -- a 146 in the first game and then a 170 to close the season. I’d promise to send him the article about a Dallas bowler’s near-900 game, an almost unheard of string of three consecutive perfect games. In other words, 36 strikes in a row. A turkey to end all turkeys. The seventh extinction. 

He’d probably feed me some essay idea and remind me how much he loves my writing and remind me I got my work ethic from Mom. 

I’d tell him I won a hail mary bet, how it was a must-win otherwise I would’ve depleted all my FanDuel dollars, after which I promised to stop betting like I had been every week for the last two months and he’d say Oh yeahhh like the Kool Aid man (kool aid btw was invented in Nebraska). We both bet on Denver to repeat as champions so we’d prematurely discuss their first playoff game and what it portends for June. 

I’d tell him no I haven’t spoken to Ethan recently but we both love you deeply. 

Dad would hem and haw when asked what’s new with him. There never was much. Life was filtered through TV, current events, books, visitors and his window overlooking the parking lot with an American flag planted center stage. One of the nurses told me he offered up his grandpas flag honoring his WWII service to replace their tattered flag. 

He’d surely ask what I was reading. New York 2140. I borrowed it from you. It was perfect you had it, because that’s exactly what I wanted to read after Vinson Cunningham’s debut novel Great Expectations. I read it flying into New York and saw how vulnerable the city was to a rising sea-levels. We landed in LaGuardia, which has its ass hanging out on the water. Tunneling through the East River to Manhattan I saw the ancient screws coated in dust holding the center fast against past and future. 

It was a very New York book, too, with some interesting finance elements (liquidity, stoking then shorting the bubble, Ben Bernanke’s heroic levers). One of the main characters was a super, another was a degen finance bro. It indulged in geographic specificity, from street names to developed marshes, making several detours down local cul de sacs into forgotten pockets of history and waxing poetic about that famous New York energy. 

It flagged a little 400 pages in, but the animating premise -- a resilient New York that adapted to a 50-foot surge in sea levels after the ice shelf collapsed -- was endlessly fascinating. Downtown was “intertidal” with skyscrapers partly submerged in water at high tide, while sky bridges criss-crossed overhead, and cloud communities circled above superscrapers hundreds of stories high. The author imagineered a SuperVenice and it was a beautiful triumph against the odds. You would like the cloud influencer who shepherded animals at risk in her blimp-ark. 

He’d tell me about an interesting book review he read in the Washington Post and the book that would soon be delivered and of course the many others he had his eye on. You have plenty of reading material already. Read what you have! I’d normally say shaking my head. But this time I’d say those all sound great and I promise to take good care of them. I’ll read them all with you. 

Inevitably we’d both get quiet. I was always perplexed why Dad got anxious during any conversation lull, but he did and would proceed to wrap things up. I took advantage of this sometime. But not today. Today I’d say don’t go, the words will come, just stay on the line. 

[theycallme-thejackal]

One MidgeLenny x TSwift Fic Per Day

121. This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

Midge strides into the Button Club and rests her elbows on the bar as she waits for Joel to turn around.

When he does, he jumps a little in surprise. Got him. “Joel...?” She drawls through a very obviously fake smile.

“Midge...?” He replies nervously.

“I just had a very interesting interview,” she explains. “She asked me about my new boyfriend.”

“Uh...that’s nice?”

“But here’s the funny thing, Joel,” she adds without dropping her smile. “My new boyfriend and I haven’t gone public yet. We’ve been keeping things quiet.”

“Uh-huh...”

“And here’s the thing,” she continues, folding her hands on the bar in front of her. “I did a little digging, and it seems that two weeks ago the same reporter did a little profile on up-and-coming clubs, and one of those clubs - ” She gestures to the room “ - was yours.”

Joel at least has the decency to look guilty at that. “So Joel,” she continues, “would you please explain to me why the hell you decided to go against my explicit wishes and tell the press about my relationship?”

“It slipped out, okay!” He cries, and some of the liquid in the shaker he’s holding splashes out. “Shit,” he mutters, grabbing a towel. “I’m sorry!"

Midge finally drops the facade and pinches the bridge of her nose. “There are a million things you could have talked about, and you chose to tell a reporter about my relationship? A relationship that is only a few weeks old, by the way.”

Joel puts the shaker and towel on the bar and leans on his hands. “She was...nice - ”

“And by nice, you mean she flirted with you,” Midge bats back with an arched brow.

“No,” he protests, but the slight reddening of his ears gives him away.

“For fuck’s sake, Joel!”

“I’m sorry!” He shouts again. “But look, I have a business to run here, and if I’ve got a chance to tell a reporter that - ” He lowers his voice “ - Lenny Bruce likes to hang out at my club, I’m going to do it! Because it’s good for my business.”

“Why did you tell her we were dating?” Midge presses.

Joel sighs. “Because she asked. Apparently there have been rumors about you two for a while, and him hanging out at your ex-husband’s club where you happen to perform semi-regularly raised some flags.”

“I know there are rumors,” she tells him. “That’s why we’ve been flying under the radar.”

“Midge, what do you want me to say?” He asks, sounding defeated. “I told you I’m sorry. I am. Even though you think I’m the bad guy, I really didn’t mean to fuck with your relationship.”

She considers him for a long moment, searching for any sign of duplicity, but there’s none. He really does seem to be contrite. “Okay,” she concedes, deflating a little. “I just...I really want this to work. I don’t want anything to scare him off.”

“You think your relationship is really that fragile?” Joel asks, his brow furrowing.

“No,” she answers honestly. “But then...” She eyes him meaningfully.

He sighs. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Did I...did I ever tell you I’m sorry?” He asks. “What I did to you...I was unhappy, and I went about it the wrong way.”

Midge nods slowly. “Yes, you did,” she agrees.

“I’m sorry, Midge. I really did love you.”

She swallows thickly. “I really loved you, too,” she breathes, and they look at each other for a long moment. “Thank you...I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

He gives her a gentle smile. “And now you have Lenny.”

“And you have Mei,” she agrees. “We ended up where we needed to be.”

He nods again. “So...I should get back to work.”

“Right. Okay. Well, if any reporters come snooping around, just...tell them Lenny likes your lineup of comics. And if anyone asks about us - ”

“He’s your friend, I got it,” he promises.