#I’m aware cringe is dead I just think it’s incredibly funny

[romijuli]

My dnd character playlists are becoming increasingly cringe against my will

[backandimbamon]

Plzz write Bamon + their baby :)

i’ve never written about this!!! ty for the prompt this was so fun to think about (: <33 ask + u shall receive!!

….

Sometimes, Damon can’t believe it.

Life is a very funny thing, both haha funny and strange funny, and it’s moments like these where he sits and reflects on the doors that he’s opened, the doors he’s closed, the ones where he’s stayed a while, kicked off his shoes, grabbed some wine, and never ever left.

Bonnie is meeting him for movies and popcorn, their typical Sunday routine, only this is no ordinary Sunday because Friday, he broke up with Elena. Bonnie is supposedly emotional support though he keeps it to himself that he doesn’t need it. He will milk every ounce of affection he can out of his bestie if it means she’ll stay a while longer.

Just like that, everything that he fought hard for he decides to let go because despite the incredible sex and history Elena and Damon have… things still aren’t…right. With every obstacle out of the way, the house quieter, just the two in each other’s presence, it is loud that they will probably never mesh well.

Plus, even a few years after Stefan’s death, Damon notices the room in her heart for him shrinks in size and maybe it’s the fact that the only common ground they have now is Bonnie Bennett- everyone else is either dead or annoying enough that Damon refuses to discuss them, (Caroline, Matt, Jeremy,) they can’t talk about Stefan since his absence still hurts too much. And while Elena is a tad exhausted by only chatting about “his little witch,” Damon can go on and on for days.

Like word vomit, he’s all Bonnie this and Bonnie that in discussions to the point where he’s inwardly cringing at himself but he just can’t stop.

“You know she was my best friend first,” Elena says to him one day after he fusses about Bonnie not answering her phone within the first three rings. There’s a strange look in her expression that perturbs Damon- of course he knows that. Of course.

“Yeah, yeah, but I could’ve been dying over here. I could’ve already been dead. You know she doesn’t have anything to live for if I’m not around,” he jokes snidely.

Elena is folding clothes in the laundry room, she doesn’t laugh or look at him, just continues bending dried garments into a convenient, placeable stack.

Tough crowd.

….

“You ever thought about… I don’t know…? Dating?” Alaric says this, a glass of golden whiskey to his mouth before he knocks it back down his throat and the only thing that’s left is the large, sparkling ice cube. When he slaps the glass down, the ice klinks characteristically. It’s been perhaps a month or two since Damon and Elena’s split.

“Me and Judgey? Are you insane? That’s my-“

“Best friend. Yeah. Everyone’s aware.”

Damon’s brows knot up in confusion, and his eyes hold an expression of disbelief.

“It’s Bonnie,” He says, blue eyes twinkling with an almost believable mirth like he thinks it’s a joke that Alaric would even ask.

“It is.” He confirms.

A minute passes of Damon rubbing the back of his neck, Ric staring aimlessly at his empty glass before he speaks up again.

“So you haven’t… you know…”

“What?” Damon makes a hand gesture of the obviously forbidden word before shaking his head vehemently. “Of course not.”

“Oh, I know that. I was going to ask if you’ve ever…thought about it?”

Bonnie? With her legs wrapped around his waist as he makes every inch of his dick disappear into her hot and gushy anatomy? So deep inside her that their hips touch?

He clears his throat.

“Of course not.” Damon repeats.

….

It’s a momentary lapse of judgement-the kiss- and when she doesn’t reciprocate or move at all, really, the awkwardness is a brick that sinks in the bottom of his stomach.

Leaf green eyes and a beating heart too panicky to be calm but she just brushes it all away like eraser marks on a timed essay.

Damon never imagines rejection to be so simple that he can just pretend that it never happened. He takes the exit and sits back in friend zone where he’s always belonged.

Things are kinda sorta normal for a week.

….

“Truth or dare?” Bonnie suggests that they play it and on queue, Damon throws out sexual innuendo in an insert-line-here-fashion. She cringes, rolls her eyes, tries not to laugh.

Normal.

But then she dares him to kiss her again and things are so far from normal that somehow they end up in bed together, completely naked, and completely wild.

And God, Bonnie begs, pleads, when she’s under Damon but when she gets on top, it’s him that’s asking for permission.

“Fuck, Bon,” he mumbles before leaving a long stream of cursive inside of her.

Their eyes are crystallized, perhaps it’s the moonlight.

….

He shouldn’t feel this betrayed when he hears it, the second heartbeat, but something inside of him snaps.

“Found another best friend?” Damon asks, they haven’t had sex since that wonderful, miraculous night a little over one month ago but the sexual tension between them is as taut as a rubber-band.

She laughs, not noticing the pain in his tone. “With what time?”

It’s a solid question. He’s had Bonnie to himself practically every evening, her stuff is vicariously thrown around the house; she’s in all the rooms at once.

But there’s undeniably an extra heartbeat, he hears it with each pause, each breath she takes, the incessant thump.

“Um,” Damon’s tumbler slips out of his grasp and crashes to the floor.

Bonnie backs away from the mess.

“Um?”

….

Pregnant Bonnie is his favorite Bonnie, from her cravings, to her glow, to her new abundance of cleavage. The two of them can’t stop thinking how this could be, how their lives keep getting stranger and stranger, how nature keeps being redefined, and the rules keep bending and breaking.

Her new favorite things are chocolate chip cookies with salty chips baked in, chocolate-and honey-covered strawberries, spicy sausages, pickle juice.

His hands find their new home in rubbing Bon’s baby bump until she drifts off into a nap.

When her breathing gets heavier indicating she’s in a deep sleep he says into her hair, “You should marry me.”

And he means it.

….

Luna Bennett-Salvatore arrives with soft brown skin and Heterochromia iridum: one ice blue eye and one leaf green one.

Damon nicknames her Bam since Bonnie decides to scrap his name suggestion altogether.

“Bamon! It’s our names combined,”

“No.”

“But what if-“

“No.”

And Luna aka Bam grows very fast. She smiles a lot. Babbles a lot. To Bonnie’s dismay, she says “dada” first.

“Look at Daddy’s Girl,” he says, holding his princess high in the air. “You know what, Bam, I better not say that too loud. Mommy was Daddy’s Girl before you.”

“Oh my God,” Bonnie mumbles, hiding her smile.

She likes to fall asleep with her little arms hugging Bonnie’s neck, the side of her face pressed against hers.

“Don’t be jealous,” Bonnie says when Damon crosses his arms.

“Jealous?” He tsks. “I can do that too,” He bundles Bonnie and Luna up in his arms. “you should marry me,” he says into her hair.

And he means it.

[lem-cup-rev]

Hazbin Hotel | Pilot (2019)

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

How is this so good?? Even though it’s on an indie budget, it’s basically stuffed to the back with creativity and expressive, engaging movement.

Hell can be such a well-trodden, trite aesthetic, but this world isn't predictable for an instant. Every environment has an iconically jagged, lopsided design and a very on-the-nose sight gag or two, and the characters are all wonderful colorful freaks with a beautiful diversity of mutant monster parts along with the evergreen appeal of the manic fangy grin.

I love the idea that Hell is not a fiery torture chamber but a Las Vegas paradise of debauchery where the worst people get to do whatever they want, at the cost of being constantly surrounded by abject cruelty and violence and being crushed instantly if they wind up on the bottom of the pile.

I’m really stunned by how many different razzle-dazzle ideas they fit into one episode, from songs to puppet-style flashbacks to sideshow supervillain battles. But most of all, the way every scene has such bombastic, creative boarding and animation. It feels like every single shot someone thought ‘how do I punch this up to be a little more unique and expressive?’ It definitely has that slightly sloshy, loose quality of indie animation, but I think it fits quite well with the crazy, messy tone.

My favorite character is CHARLIE. I can’t believe we get a woman with such a cute, classy butch wardrobe. She’s my little Dead End reject and I love her. The tension between her sweet positivity and everything around her is just agonizing. It wouldn’t work nearly as well if she were purely a naive innocent getting ground into the dirt, but she clearly has a real awareness of her situation and can dish it back when she has to. Vaggie and Angel Dust are really appealing too. They add good stuff to the dynamic and I love how much their designs stand out.

I will say I mostly love the first two thirds, and the third act starts to drag. I really want to like the Radio Demon – he and his distorted voice have incredible Onceler appeal – but it feels like his whole manner is too blaring and overpowering and he just sucks all of the air out of the scene. I don’t even quite know why, it just makes me a little dizzy to watch and listen to him. The gambler guy didn’t make much of an impression on me, but I love the little maid girl. The stuff she says is so funny and not-PC.

Really one of the most unique things about this show is that it’s perfect bait for the very real online contingent of kids and adults who make self-indulgent Deviantart OCs and are head-over-heels for anything demons, furries, spiky-haired, spiky-toothed, badass, and creepy. That’s looked at with so much cringe now, but I think it’s awesome when a creator grows up in a certain fandom and then makes something where their stylistic influences and obsessions are plain as day. It’s so sweet.

[sunjaesol]

written kind of caffeinated, kind of stoned, kind of sleep-deprived juke | 2043 words | pure fluff

He knew that, rationally, he shouldn’t do it. The word “boundary!” blared in his head and the whole thing was really inconsequential and it was so stupid, but Luke simply couldn’t help himself. Was it because of his crush on her? Most definitely. Should that awareness stop him from doing dumb shit like this? Yes, except here he was.

While Julie was at school, she accidentally let the lights in her room on. And so, Luke poofed from the studio into her room to turn them off. Saving power, right? Doing the right thing, being a good person, definitely not going into her room because it was her room.

There was something relaxing about the space though. A sense of serenity falling on his shoulders every time he stepped inside and let his eyes wander and settle on new nooks and corners he hadn’t discovered yet. F+J scratched in the wood of her wardrobe, a box of pretty seashells, four tubes of the exact same mascara in her vanity. It felt familiar and human and simple and so, so Julie.

He flicked the lights off, the only light source being the sun pouring in and casting the room in a gentle glow. Her pink walls were gentler now, the colour of peaches and reminding him of summer nights with his boys on the beach. (It also reminded him of Julie’s peach deodorant that always hung around her and involuntarily made him zero in on her. Alex would argue he was always looking at her, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that the thought of peaches only held fond memories - new memories that now included her too.)

Alright. The lights were off. He did his good deed. He should go back to the boys… 

His feet moved on their own accord and plopped down on her bed, sinking into the mattress. His hands caressed the soft comforter, a smile tugging on his lips that thank the fucking music gods, he could still touch and feel things. He would’ve gone insane in an instant if they weren’t able to be in contact with anything or anyone. It was unfathomable to Luke - not hugging Reggie or massaging Alex’s shoulders or grabbing Julie’s hand. To him, music was just another way to share that sensation of contact with people. Didn’t matter if it was loud and rough or quiet and intimate, a ballad or a rock anthem. Connection: that was all he ever needed. 

His fingers slid further and suddenly he was laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. Oh, man. Now he really couldn’t leave. Her bed was so comfortable! Definitely better than the mattress he had at his folks or, even worse, the couch. That thing broke his back the last months. Ha, Luke noted bitterly, maybe it was better that he hit the bucket then. Rather dead and setting the stage on fire than living with a hernia, right? 

Though Luke still slept (habit? he guessed?), he has never felt sleepy. The boys just hung around or hit the streets and then eventually felt that tug of human normalcy. “Maybe we should go to sleep, guys. Big day ahead.” He didn’t dream. It was just black. It wasn’t unwelcome; just… empty. 

But here, laying on Julie’s bed and letting his eyes blur and rest, Luke felt sleepy. Sufficiently exhausted. He didn’t know where that sudden slam of the hammer came from, but he kind of liked it. It made him feel like he was the one that went to school today, or had a tiring shift at some fast food shack, or played a gig. He stretched himself like a star, grinned as all the joints in his back popped, and then rolled on his side. Fucking heaven. 

‘What’re you doing here?’

The faraway voice lulled the groggy Luke awake. He felt like he was hit by a truck. Where was he? 

‘Hmph?’

She chuckled, his mind speeding up at just the sound and realising that shit, he did fall asleep on her bed and she caught him. His eyes cracked open, coming face to face with an amused Julie hovering on the side of the bed. His brain supplied him with the thought that she looked pretty, reminding him once again that yup, he still liked her. A sheepish smile crawled on his lips. 

‘Hey, Jules.’

She rolled her eyes and then roughly pushed him to the other side of the bed. He squeaked, grabbing onto the comforter as to not fall off and gawked at her. 

‘Dude!’

‘This is my side of the bed,’ Julie said, pointing at the indent he made. ‘If you’re going to sleep here, it’s on the other side.’

He let out a relieved breath. ‘You’re not mad?’

‘Depends.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why were you in my room?’

Waving his hands towards the ceiling, he muttered. ‘Your lights were still on.’

His reply visibly mellowed her, so much that it kind of surprised him. Her smile melted into those she gave him whenever he found a gnarly lyric or impressed her with a riff or met her halfway for the mic onstage. During those moments, it was hard to deny there wasn’t more, that both knew there was more, but couldn’t really do anything about it. It was really depressing. “Yeah, Jules, I’m fucking crazy about you. Wanna make out and hope I don’t disappear the next day?” Even his impulsive streak wasn’t that extreme. 

He hadn’t expected her to smile like that right now. Not when he laid on her bed and her hair was begging for his fingers to slip through and the spot he slept on was still warm. He almost poofed away. Were they going to touch on the “more”? Was this it? 

‘Thanks,’ she eventually whispered, eyes dropping and meeting his again with a shyer smile and he knew he was sporting the exact same. A beat passed between them, eyes locked and unwavering. His fingers twitched. 

‘Uh…’ Mustering back some rationality, he said: ‘Do you want me to leave, or?’

Her hands stretched out. ‘No!’ Face twisting to something he could only describe as “cringe”, she went on a little calmer. ‘You can- it’s fine. I’m just going to do some homework anyway.’

He watched as she and her backpack found a place on the bed, both very close and very far away all at once. It shouldn’t be intimate, but it was. He was seventeen and she was sixteen and he was pretty sure his crush wasn’t completely one-sided and she just allowed him to stay. There wasn’t music or a guitar or a songbook to hide behind and it sort of terrified him. But in a good way? Like when he went cliff diving and stood at the edge, stomach whooping at the thought of jumping, or when he was at the top of a rollercoaster and the cart slowly began to tilt. It was that. The feeling of quiet exhilaration. 

All of that just cause Julie sat next to him bend over a history worksheet. Get a fucking grip, dude. 

He didn’t know how long she worked on her homework or how long he stared at the ceiling, hands weaved beneath his head, but it mustn’t been long. The weight shifted and suddenly Julie’s head fell on her pillow with a sigh. 

‘No, no, no, Julie,’ he teased, ‘gotta keep those grades up, right?’

She rolled on her side to stick her tongue out. ‘Very funny. You maybe don’t remember it anymore, but school’s exhausting.’

Luke also shifted on his side, chuckling. ‘Jules, it haunts me. That’s why I dropped out.’

‘Cute pun.’

‘Thanks.’ And then, because Luke was never one to overthink: ‘I like this.’

That smile of her came back, the one he always wanted to see. Her eyes crinkled and her lips slightly parted and so incredibly beautiful. He heard music when he looked at her. Death became sweeter if it meant he’d get to stare at the girl of his dreams. It was a morbid thought, but then again, he didn’t deem himself dead whenever he was around her. Luke probably felt so alive around her that it surprised him later on that he wasn’t. 

He wasn’t a ghost. Not to her. She didn’t need to tell him for him to know that. 

Julie tentatively held her hand out in the space between, palm up and smudged with ink. When he placed his on top, fingers barely intertwining but the sensation like a shot of oxygen, she murmured: ‘Me too.’

They didn’t plan for it to become routine, but it also felt kind of inevitable. Nearly every day, Luke would go to Julie’s room when he knew her day at school was nearing its end and waited on her. She’d come in and briefly recapitulate the day (usually some story regarding an annoying teacher and Flynn with a killer comeback), sliding down on her side of the bed and hold his hands. Some days, her fingertips quietly wandered the lines on his palms, some days his did. It was always quiet. Though the only ones in her room, they whispered. This wasn’t a secret (the boys were keenly aware where Luke spent his afternoons), but it felt wrong to speak at a normal volume when the other was so close.  

As the days progressed, they shifted closer. Not intentional, but once again inevitable. Everything about them felt like that nowadays. The longer he was around, the more he realised that this - the bond he shared with Julie - was always meant to happen. Whenever his thoughts meandered to those cosmically impossible ideas of serendipity and couldn’t wrap his head around it, Julie was always there with her smile to bring him back to earth. Or, well, to bed.

And then one day, Julie came home from school, saw him, and without saying anything, crawled right into his chest. His heartbeat didn’t pick up like he expected. It eased and relaxed, sinking deeper into the matress as his eyes fell shut from pure fucking bliss and hugged her closer. Her peach deodorant overwhelmed his senses in the best way possible, burrowing his face in her neck and her smile stretching against his sweater. She was warm and perfectly fit into the curve of his body and he was in love. The acceptance should’ve ached, but it didn’t. How could he think about tomorrow when Julie Molina was wrapped in his arms?

Time froze those afternoons. As long as she kept her head on his chest, as long as they didn’t leave the bed, their island, then nothing could hurt them. 

One afternoon, when the sun was reflecting pink and purple splotches on the walls and he was contently dissecting each curl, his heart so full it could explode, he said it. ‘I wanna do this forever.’

He felt her chuckle. ‘Inspecting my hair like a monkey, or…?’

Luke squeezed her closer. ‘C’mon, Jules.’

Her giggles quieted, chin sliding up his chest to look at him. If she found devotion shimmering behind the green, she was correct. He hoped that the warm flickering in her brown ones was the same. 

Her voice was small. ‘You do?’

He nodded, every movement too big or too loud, afraid it would ruin the perfect quietude surrounding them. The room melted away, her face all that was left. Before he let the tug in his chest (the same thread that looped them in this embrace) guide him closer, she got there first. Julie surged upwards, barely needing to close any distance to softly find his lips. He cradled her cheek, warmth brimming from every pore on his skin, love pouring from his lips onto hers. It was short and sweet, but their smiles as they did were anything but. It felt like the first flower blooming in spring. Giddy, he kissed her again. He loved her. (It was inevitable.) 

Julie hummed an unknown melody in his ear, lilting and just as giddy, her fingers circling right above his heart. It stammered to blend with hers. Luke met her gaze, noses brushing and smiles private and eyes adoring. She loved him. (It was inevitable.)

‘Then let’s do it forever.’

[iamanartichoke]

I need spoilers for episodes 5 and 6. They've got to be out there. I can't take two more weeks of this.

I think what's giving me this vaguely ill feeling, right now, is the sinking realization that there was no grander plan behind Loki's getting drunk, breaking the Timepad, just general kinda incompetent behavior. There were theories and there were hints and subtext and it amounted to nothing.

Cut for spoilers/negativity, sorry.

Basically I'm getting major "that opening scene in IW was just too full of holes, the-sun-will-shine-on-us-again, one little dagger, Loki has to have something up his sleeve - oh .... no, no he's really dead, there was no greater plan" flashbacks.

It's so incredibly frustrating for Loki's narrative to come so close to something profound, again and again, only to swing and miss at the last second. The pieces are there. The threads are there. And tptb keep choosing to just ... sit on them, bc idk, it's easier for Loki's complexity to remain unexplored?

Tom says that episodes 4 and 5 are where the series takes off and I'm just like, you can't wait until the second to last episodes to have something happen! You've been dropping breadcrumbs since episode 1 - episodes 4 and 5 are where you start to sweep them up! You've only got 6 total!

Also, I was really interpreting Loki having confused friendship with romance, bc that's what makes the most sense for his character but then there was this, and the aforementioned 'oh so this really is just surface-level material and I shouldn't even waste my time examining the subtext and context clues' feeling occurs. (Note - this article isn't overly flattering to Loki, bc of course it isn't, so just be aware of that before reading.)

So, yeah, it's just - it's not exactly the content of this episode that has me so upset. I can live with bad plots and dangling threads. Lord knows I tolerate other, arguably much more terrible tv shows for the sake of the parts I like (Reign, Once Upon a Time, a few seasons of Pretty Little Liars, just to name a few).

It's not the content. It's the refusal of tptb to take Loki's character to the depths he deserves, especially since they promised us that this series would really explore his identity and his gender and all of these things that the fandom mostly has wanted. It's frustration in the overall way the surface-level plot makes Loki's characterization suffer. And it's definitely the trigger of those feelings of heartbreak and fury and denial and grief that followed IW. I practically have ptsd from that death scene.

(I realize that these are hefty words to use to describe one's reaction to fiction, especially in the sense that an emotional downward spiral is being legitimately triggered by a tv show, but - look, everyone already knew I was cringe, okay, so leave me alone with my feelings.)

I think that if the show had more episodes, there would have been hope for it? Like all the breadcrumbs that have been dropped implied lots of fascinating things to be explored, but they just didn't have room to explore them as thoroughly as they'd need to in order for all of it to have an impact. Loki/Sylvie does not feel earned. Mobius turned on the TVA super quickly (so did B-15, for that matter). Ravonna went from kinda sus to outright villain in, like, ten minutes. And Loki and Mobius's friendship didn't exactly come out of nowhere, bc it was set up as the outcome from the first episode (in my opinion) but it did happen much too quickly. It wasn't earned, either. And the reason I'm harping on this is because these are all really good character journeys that could have been done so much better - yeah, even Loki/Sylvie - if they had just paced them better, used more of their own subtext, and had a few more episodes in which to develop the characters alongside the complicated plot.

(Yeah, there may be a season 2, but I'm not here for waiting a whole nother year or so for it to be filmed, produced, and released only for it to continue to ultimately not meet my expectations.)

So, yes. I'm sorry for the negativity; I realize I went from "hey I mostly liked this! It wasn't that bad!" to "I will ragequit and kill everyone in this story and then myself" in, like, a few hours but - well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I'll most likely rewatch it again tonight. I may or may not cry it out and then do my best to enjoy the remaining two episodes for what they are, not for what they could or might be. Once the rawness of all of this fades, I'll focus on the things I liked and come up with my own headcanons, I suppose. Or maybe I'll overall change my mind again. Idk. Whatever. I just need a glass of wine and a few more xanax tbh. (Great. Now fiction is going to give me a drug problem as well lmfao.)

Also - it is actualy really, really funny that, if you think about it, it turns out that a fanfic by Tom isn't actually all that good. (I'm being facetious, but the general sentiment is true.) I'm sorry, Tom. I know you're excited about this and you said this episode was your favorite, so I hope you don't see some of these reactions (either here, or on twitter, or reddit, or wherever he may end up) and feel bad about yourself/your project. I guess there's just no universal cup of tea for everybody.

[gay-otlc]

A Risk I Want To Take

Summary: Pyrokinetics were never destined for happiness, and when Marella grows painfully aware that she could lose control and hurt the people she loves, she has to decide whether loving Linh is a risk she's willing to take.

Content warnings: (Imagined) death, cursing

Words: 2349

(Read On AO3)

"-Linh!" Marella screams, her eyes flying open. Wildly, she flings her arm out, searching for her girlfriend. It's cold; her blanket must have been thrown off the bed. She can't breathe. Distantly, she notices her cheeks are wet. She barely registers any of this, too panicked to think of anything but finding Linh.

Or... will she never find Linh? Did that really happen? Is Linh really dead?

Did that happen long ago, and her dreams were simply memories? It's so hard to make the distinction. Her brain is foggy with exhaustion and messy with panic, she can't think straight. She thinks she and Linh went on a date together just last night, but maybe that happened a million years ago. Maybe it all happened a million years ago; her life before Linh, and when they met, when they fell in love, all their time together. Maybe it's been a million years since Linh turned from a girl filled with life and kindness and beauty into a pile of ashes, since Marella destroyed her.

Maybe none of that ever existed. Maybe the only thing that's really real is right now, Marella, sitting upright in her bed in a cold sweat, frantically looking around the room as she still sees Linh dying every time she closes her eyes.

Marella knows she would never do anything to hurt Linh- or at least, she thinks that. She thinks that. But can she have one hundred percent certainty, really? Because it's never a guarantee that Marella is safe. She's a ticking time bomb, really. In recent years, she's gotten much better at controlling her outbursts of fire, but they aren't impossible. Panic attacks nearly made her burn her house down multiple times; they would have if Linh hadn't extinguished the fire. If she got upset enough, she might have burst into flame once again, and destroyed everything around her.

The longer she thinks about it, the more she's convinced of it; when she went to sleep last night, her mind simply decided to recount the time she killed her girlfriend, rather than fabricating something fictional from her fears. That had to be it. Memories and nightmares are all blending together in Marella's mind, together forming a cold, gnawing fear, and the sound of Linh's tortured screams.

She holds out her hand, palm facing upward. Her eyes close for a second, then open again. Little flames spark from her fingertips. She watches the fire, its golden glow calming her down, strangely.

How could something so beautiful have killed Linh?

...

"I may be the Pyrokinetic, but you make my heart melt," Marella blurts. In her defense, Linh looks especially beautiful today. It's their first date, and Linh is wearing a light blue mermaid-style dress and has her silver-tipped hair braided, draped over her light brown bare shoulder. For what must be the millionth time since Linh agreed to this, Marella wonders how she could have ever gotten a date with someone so incredible.

As she realizes what came out of her mouth, she cringes, wishing for the ground to swallow her whole.

Luckily, Linh must have found it cute, because she smiles. "I may be the Hydrokinetic, but I'm drowning in your eyes," Linh responds, and Marella feels her face get hot.

"Um- uh- thank you," she stammers.

Linh's smile grows wider. She holds out her hand to Marella, who does her best not to grin like an idiot as she takes it. Their hands fit together perfectly, and Marella never wants to let go. And somehow, it gets better. Linh leans over, closer, and presses her lips softly against Marella's cheek.

Marella isn't convinced she's a person anymore. Maybe she's just an entity of excited butterflies.

If she could have frozen time at any moment, she would choose to live right then forever. Even if that isn't possible, she wants to be with Linh forever.

...

Somewhere, deep inside Marella, something points out that maybe Linh isn't really dead. Maybe it really was just a dream.

Marella finds it hard to believe that. Of course she's killed Linh, of course she'd gotten too close and ruined the best thing in her life, of course she had. That seemed incredibly in character for her. A Pyrokinetic, right? Fintan had told her once that Pyrokinetics were never destined for happiness. Linh had assured her that he was wrong, Marella would be the exception, her life didn't have to be ruled by his misery. Linh said they could find happiness together.

Foolishly, Marella had believed her.

Pyrokinetics were never destined for happiness, and she isn't an exception. Why had she thought she could be? Marella is nothing but dangerous, fire and smoke and destruction. No one should ever love her. Even if she doesn't have bad intentions, that doesn't matter; whether or not it's intentional, the result is the same. The world is in flames. Linh is dead.

Shouldn't she have known this would happen? There's a reason Pyrokinetics were banned, and it's because they're too dangerous to be allowed around anyone else. The Council was generally wrong, but even a stopped clock is right twice a day, and they were right about this. She should have listened to them and isolated herself, because maybe she would be miserable, but everyone else would be safe.

That's what they had said she should do.

Why hadn't she listened to them?

Every time she felt herself growing warmer, something angry and hot grow in her chest, her fingertips tingle with the desire for flame, she heard their voices in her head; You are not safe. Every time, she regretted not listening.

It wasn't hard at all to believe she had lost control eventually, not at all. The details are fuzzy, but it could have happened, and that means it probably did, and Marella has never felt so scared, not in all those times the Neveseen nearly killed her. Never.

"Linh?" she calls again, not expecting a response. She loves the way Linh's name sounds on her lips, full of soft warmth and light and love. It's nothing like that now; panicked and cold. "Linh, please answer me!"

Silence.

"Linh!" she screams.

It's soft, but Marella's sure she hears it: "What?"

"Linh!"

Footsteps sound outside her door, and it swings open. The lights flick on, and Linh is there. Her jet black hair is messy, face wrinkled in confusion. "Are you alright?"

A choked sob escapes Marella's lips.

...

"Don't fucking tell me I'm not allowed to see her!" yells Marella. "She's- She's my girlfriend, she's fucking everything to me. I love her! I fucking love her, and she's fucking dying, and I want to see her!"

Without waiting for a response, she wrestles the door open and runs in.

Everything freezes. The world falls apart; everything seems wrong somehow, like it's all been altered, and nothing will ever be right again. Marella can't move, maybe she's breathing, maybe she isn't- she can't tell. Linh might not have died yet, but it doesn't look like her odds are good. Her chest is rising and falling so slowly. Scarlet pools at her side and onto the bedsheets. She looks so fragile.

So corpselike.

Furiously, Marella swipes a sleeve across her eyes and takes a seat beside Linh. She takes Linh's hand- freezing cold and limp- in hers, squeezing it like she'll never let go. "Linh," she whispers, and then all of her efforts to hold herself together come undone. "It's not- it's not fucking fair," she sobs. "Not fucking fair. We just got together; you said you liked me, and we went on a date, and you kissed me on the cheek, and I knew I wanted things to stay that way forever. I knew I loved you. And then you go get fucking stabbed! It isn't fair!"

Linh doesn't respond.

"I love you!" she shouts. "Linh, I'm in love with you, because you're the most incredible person I have ever met in my life, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You're kind and caring and funny and sweet and brave and beautiful and a million other things, if I listed everything I loved about you, it would take an eternity. But we don't have the eternity we deserve; I don't know how much time we have, but I want it to be longer than the next few minutes. Please, Linh, you have to wake up, so I can tell you all the reasons I love you, and we can fall in love over and over again, every time we look at each other, and we can get married, and we can get old together, and we can watch the world change, and we can have forever. I love you, and I want that, but you have to wake up. So please, Linh, don't die. You're not allowed to die. I won't let you, because I fucking love you!"

Linh doesn't respond.

Of course she doesn't. This isn't some cheesy romance story, a badly written cliche. This is real life, and miracles don't happen in real life.

"I love you, Linh," she repeats. "I'll love you forever. Even when you're gone."

She presses a kiss to Linh's knuckles, and then backs her chair up a few inches so she can curl into herself and cry.

An hour passes, and Linh doesn't die. Then another, and she's still hanging on to life. She survives the next hour, and the next, and then next, until Marella's been by her side for a full day and Linh is still alive.

She wakes up after three days, and Marella holds Linh more tightly than she was aware was possible, and whispers I love you over and over again until it no longer sounds like words. Linh is back, and she'll never want anything again, because she could not be happier.

...

"You're alive," Marella breathes, feeling incomprehensible relief wash over her. She springs up to hug Linh tightly.

Linh squeezes back after a moment of pause. "Um... yes. I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because I killed you!"

Gently, Linh untangles herself from Marella's desperate embrace. "Darling, I love you so much, but you're not making any sense." She bends down to kiss Marella's forehead and takes her hand, leading her back to the bed, where the mattress bends slightly as she sits down. Marella sits beside her, but slides away, just in case she sets Linh on fire for real this time. "What happened? Are you alright?"

Marella is shaking. Has she been shaking this hard the whole time? And she thinks there are fresh tears on her cheeks. "I- I had a nightmare," she whispers, feeling stupid as she says it. Panic washes over her again as she remembers how it felt to watch Linh be consumed by Marella's own flames, to watch Linh die. "We had an argument, and I- I lost control of my Pyrokinesis, and you died. And- and I could have stopped it, but I was mad, and I did no-nothing when you screamed for help, and I didn't care that you were dying. I didn't care!"

"Oh, darling, that sounds horrible. I'm so sorry," says Linh, opening her arms for another hug. Fear flares up in Marella's chest, and she slides away again, shaking her head. Why is Linh apologizing to her? She should be the one apologizing- for being dangerous, for being such a mess, for not caring. "Marella, you don't have to be afraid of hugging me. You wouldn't do that for real. I'll be alright."

"You don't know that," Marella argues.

"No, I'm not absolutely, one hundred percent certain that you will not light me on fire. But I'm fairly sure, and I love you, so I'm willing to take that risk."

"Well, I'm not." It was the most terrifying experience of Marella's life when she thought she had killed Linh, and she never wants to risk feeling anything like that ever again.

"Marella, I know you're not a bad person," Linh says, and even though Marella knows it's a lie, it still sounds nice. "I know you're guilty about having not helped me in your nightmare, but you're so terrified right now- that's proof that you care about me. It was a nightmare, Marella, that doesn't define you."

"But- but it could happen in real life. It could happen. I could hurt you so easily. You'd be safer if you just stayed away from me."

Linh takes Marella's hands in hers, squeezing them tighter when Marella tries to pull back, and looks her in the eyes. "I'd be safer, maybe, but I wouldn't be happier, and I love you so much. You're a risk I want to take."

"I don't want you to-"

"I know it's scary," Linh says. "I know you're scared of hurting me, and I love you for trying to protect me. But I know what it's like to be dangerous, and to be terrified of hurting the people you love, and I know isolating yourself won't help. Nothing I say is going to make all the fear go away, but I want you to know; I love you, Marella Redek. I love all of the wonderful things about you, and I love all of your flaws, and I love your Pyrokinesis too, because it's a part of you, and I love all of you. Loving someone is always a risk you take, because when let yourself be vulnerable with someone, you risk them hurting you, and you choose to love them anyway, because sometimes happiness is more important than safety. Loving you is a small risk compared to the enormity of my love for you, and you're more important than the safety I'd get from always avoiding Pyrokinetics. You're a risk I want to take. Do you feel the same way?"

It's terrifying. Marella is terrified. Hurting Linh is, without a doubt, the most terrifying thing there is. And yet... loving Linh is the most wonderful. "Yeah," she says finally, quietly. "You're a risk I want to take."

[dex-xe]

I’ve made Spotify playlists inspired by each of the ghosts and I’ve made these little written pieces to talk about them. if you wanna read them, please go ahead - if not then enjoy the music!!

This is Pat's playlist:

Dancing In the Dark - Bruce Springsteen

A 1984 hit that Pat definitely would have loved, it’s brilliant tbh.

I Will Follow You into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie

Poor Pat. I feel so sorry for him having to leave his family so young, like as someone who lost a parent very young (although I’m assuming slightly older than Daley would’ve been) it breaks my heart to see Pat’s family turn up at Button House. I’ve been to the place my parent died a number of times since and every time it makes me feel kinda sick. It’s an interesting idea for the show to explore, sometimes I forget just how dark this show actually is but like it’s a comedy but it’s literally about the trauma of death like???

Kids In America - Kim Wilde

I too adore Kim Wilde, Pat.

Dance With Me - Alphaville

RIP Pat Butcher you would’ve loved this song. Like Pat’s a dancing king as has been shown in ALN (one of my favourite episodes O.o) and that’s legit one of my favourite scenes where Pat and the Captain are arguing on the dance floor. I say “naff off, you wazzock” more than is socially acceptable XD

Sweet Caroline - Neil Diamond

Pat was obviously a fan of Sweet Caroline, man was a DJ extraordinaire and a huge football fan therefore obvious. It’s kinda weird to imagine Pat at the local game on a Sunday afternoon but like he definitely did, maybe he took Daley a few times. More of Pat’s life please, Parent Pat plsss.

Radio Ga Ga - Queen

The Grey Lady is one of my absolute favourite episodes cause I think ghosts hunters are a really great concept for an episode and Pat trying to host a radio show is just so incredibly funny. Pat’s little “apologies to those still waiting for the pop quiz” is just so good. But yeah, radio guy.

Video Killed The Radio Star - The Buggles

More radio references but also, I think Pat (and Julian as well) are most indicative of the increasingly rapid passage of time through technology. Like when Pat’s like”knocks the socks off Betamax!!” And Julian says “that must be two CD noms max” or something (I can’t remember exactly what he says). There’s a thing called Moore’s Law that states that technology doubles in capability and halves in price every two years (I know that’s not right but that’s the basic gist don’t come at me) but that means that growth in technological accessibility is increasing at a more rapid pace every year. Anyway, I think watching Pat and Julian struggle with modern technology is so fascinating cause they’re so different to today despite only living a few decades ago.

Together In Electric Dreams - Phil Oakey & Giorgio Moroder

Pat would’ve just missed this and honestly big sad. Such a cheesy song and just pure 80s cringe and I adore it XD But yeah, “we will always be together”.

Dancing in the Moonlight - Toploader

I put this on so many character playlists (I have literally hundreds of private character playlists on my personal spotify, there’s legitimately tons) because it’s just a nice song and yeah, Pat would love it :D

Alright - Supergrass

This was more placed here as something for Pat’s scouts. Like the song is so often used to show young people having fun and being care-free and I just love the image of Pat driving the scouts out into the country and it being a superrrrr long drive and then finally they get off the bus and just run free with this song playing. I loved being in Scouts and most of the Masters were so much fun and I just really wanna see more of Pat making sure his scouts have a great time!!

Come On Eileen - Dexys Midnight Runners

(Dexys Midnight Runners are actually the reason behind my username on here…) But yeah just the 80s personified this song. And I hope your proud of me for not making the classic Australian Radio joke I always make when this song comes up… XD

December, 1963 (Oh What A Night) - Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons

Pat was born in 1945/6, right?? Well then he would’ve turned 18 in 1963. I always forget that Pat was not just an 80s guy like he was a teen in the 50s and 60s and then in his 20s in the 70s like that’s sick!! But yeah sorry, this is just a great song!!

(Feels Like) Heaven - Fiction Factory

Pat, my guy. My heart breaks in that scene where Pat really thinks he’s going to heaven. My. Heart. Breaks. I’m assuming the ghosts don’t know what happens when you “move on” but Pat immediately assumes upon seeing a bright light that that’s it for him?? Maybe it’s just based on films and pop culture that he’s aware of?? Or maybe it’s just because he was emotional and had had a massive revelation of sorts and assumed he would move on??

You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) - Jimmy Somerville

Just a good song againnnnnnnnn, but also since Alison turning up like how incredible would it be to finally have a living breathing human who you can talk to. Like how real would that make you feel?? Like okay Jimmy, come back to me once you've been dead 40 years and meet a woman who half died and can now see you, then that's real!! XD

Don’t You (Forget About Me) - Simple Minds

I feel like Pat more than anyone is concerned about being forgotten but is also one of the least likely to be forgotten for the time being. Like he has a whole family who won’t forget him for at minimum two generations in addition to God knows how many scouts who will clearly not forget him. He passed on skills that they will pass on to others who will pass on to others like one day his name will be forgotten but not what he imparted onto the world. Okay got philosophical but yeah, you shan’t be forgotten any time soon Pat!!

Top Gun Anthem - Harold Faltermeyer & Steve Stevens

A great film, good choice Pat.

Wake Me Up Before You Go Go - Wham!

1980s icon George Michael. Just a fun song.

Somewhere in My Heart - Aztec Camera

Pat still loves Carol despite what she did to him… That is either an incredibly emotionally mature man or a man in denial who knows?? But this song is just so lovely, like it feels very pure and uncomplicated if that makes sense.

I’m Still Standing - Elton John

Having just said that, I feel like this is part is just kind of a fuck you. Like just a moment to be like ‘i’m still living (hehe dying) a good life (hehe death) despite what you did to me.'

The Wanderer - Status Quo

This is the song that plays when Pat gets into the bus after being shot. It’s basically just about being a player and hitting on loads of women, so not particularly relevant but it’s still a good song and I genuinely find that scene really eerie and yeah, *shudder* just find it weird.

[trishmishtree]

Here’s what 2 Chinese-American 90s kids thought about the new Mulan trailer

“Oh gods this is going to be the Avatar the Last Airbender movie all over again. Minus the whitewashing.”

Today my brother and I watched the new live action Mulan trailer separately and then texted each other what we thought of it afterwards.

Some context beforehand:

We are 2 millennials/zillennials who grew up in the suburbs of [redacted], PA. We grew up speaking Mandarin and going to Chinese school on the weekends, and we did spend a lot of time in China as kids and later visited during summer breaks. ...So we’re not total bananas, I guess. But definitely not Chinese enough to pass as actual Chinese people living in China.

We loved the animated movie. We didn’t get all the jokes because we were really little when we saw it (and my brother barely spoke English back then because he was like 2), but Mushu pushing a Hun’s head back into the snow like “nope” will never not be funny. When we did rewatch it later, it was only even more entertaining. 

“Well, we can’t ALL be acupuncturists!” “Noooo your great-granddaughter had to be a CROSSDRESSUH”

“Fix things...cook outdoors...”

Growing up, we had to learn the original poem (The Ballad of Mulan) in Chinese school, and it was boring as fuck

In the original poem, Mulan was already an expert swordsman before she joined the army. She was also a master tactician and also kind of an all-around Mary Sue (by American media standards), and nobody ever found out she was a woman while she was in the army because she was so perfect at everything

Like I said, we found it boring as fuck. Then again, it’s an ancient poem full of archaic language and we were like 7 and didn’t have the greatest attention spans.

We are well aware that China (actual Chinese-Chinese people) didn’t care for the animated movie because it wasn’t “authentic” enough.

We are also aware that Disney is scrapping a lot of what we liked about the 1998 animated movie (the songs, the animals, Li Shang) because they want China’s money. We get it, this movie is for actual Chinese people, not us. They don’t give a shit about Asian-Americans.

Also, the director is a white lady, and she called this new movie a “girly martial arts extravaganza,” which shows about how much respect or understanding she has for the story she’s adapting. We were especially salty about this, and it’s a big reason why neither of us was excited about this movie.

With that said, here’s what we thought about the trailer.

“I just saw the trailer. It looks stupid.”

“I was already gonna boycott the movie but now I want to see how bad the trailer is. My cringe-meter might get overloaded.”

“Everybody is completely expressionless. She was all monotone like ‘Iwillbringhonortousall.’ I get that she's not supposed to be enthusiastic about getting married, but her face looks like that in every. single. shot.”

“Also there's a scene where she’s on the battlefield surrounded by enemy soldiers. She's wearing a dress and her hair is down and she's waving her sword around and I'm like wtf is she trying to accomplish here”

“Apparently, while Americans were busy celebrating Disney for passing a bar so low that it was underground, people in China laughed when Disney announced who they cast as Mulan because she's basically the Twilight-era Kristen Stewart of China, aka dead-faced.”

“Just from her picture I could kinda see that.”

“As soon as I opened the link I got pissed off, this video is so dang elongated.”

“I was expecting heavy Chinese accents but it's not bad, that's one positive.”

“But I'm 35 seconds in and Chinese Kristen Stewart has not changed her facial expression once.”

“She has the same face in EVERY. SINGLE. SCENE.”

“It just looks like a generic League of Legends video for any champion from Ionia.”

“It looks like every other historical C-drama/war movie we were forced to watch as kids.”

“It looks better than what I expected, but I expected almost zero.”

“Jet Li plays the emperor, that's cool.”

“In the original poem, Mulan was already an expert swordsman before she joined the army, so I think that's what the trailer is hinting at here too. She was also a master tactician in the poem and never needed to struggle to learn anything. She's a Mary Sue.”

“The poem was boring and they made the movie boring to match because they want China's money.”

“It's just incredibly bland now.”

“They didn't think to cast someone like Constance Wu for Mulan?”

“Idk I think this was announced before Crazy Rich Asians got popular.”

(Side note: neither of us particularly liked CRA)

“Yeah and China already has its own market for b-rated historical war movies. They also didn't care for the 1998 animated Mulan. And they don’t care for Liu Yifei. If they're going to see this, it’s only to see what kind of trainwreck Disney has made of their precious ancient poem this time.”

“And if this movie doesn't do well then Disney will be like 'see we told you movies with poc leads don't make money’”

“It’s a shame.”

“Rewatching the trailer to listen to the music... Like everything else it's pretty underwhelming.”

“Idk if the actress actually knows martial arts but at least her form for everything looks good.”

“She's been in lots of other Chinese martial arts movies. Probably why she was cast as the lead.”

“Oh gods this is going to be the Avatar the Last Airbender movie all over again. Minus the whitewashing.”

“Why are we getting a trailer now when it won’t even come out until next March? They haven’t even done reshoots yet.”

“Maybe Disney released this trailer this early to see what audiences want changed, since they learned from the disaster that was blue genie Will Smith. I hope they give Mulan an actual facial expression in the reshoots.”

“Yes please change every single scene.”

[curlswithcreativity]

Attention - Tom Holland x Reader (Part One)

Prompt: Brittney and I like to send pictures back and forth. Sometimes in happens when I’m in class. We came to the realization that Boyfriend!Tom would almost definitely do it just for the joy of making you feel flustered. Some of the dialogue is stripped right from our conversation

A/N: I’m so sorry. It’s literally been so long since I posted that I had to look up how I formatted my fics. I’m back at school full time and it’s kicking my ass!! Also this is my first TH fic soooo... comments would be lovely! Also, this is a two parter because I didn’t like how it was turning out, so I just split off the end. I’ll post the rest tomorrow

Marvel & Marvel Cast Masterlist | Complete Writing Masterpost

Part Two

___

A tired sigh escaped your lips as you scribbled down your notes, your professor’s tangent failing to hold your attention. Your four-hour block of classes was almost done and you couldn’t wait for the short 30-minute break before the final four-hour block began. You needed to grab something to eat and quickly.

 Absent-mindedly, your hand trailed over to your phone to check the time. When the light of your screen came on, the familiar Snapchat banner that accompanied a new message derailed you. The small little red ghost icon followed by the name “Tom 🐸 💖” made you smile instinctively.

 Tom would frequently send you snaps to brighten your day and to help break up the monotony of your long lectures. The thought of a cutely framed photo of Tessa had you clicking on the banner urgently, your desire to see a cute dog in an equally cute or funny scenario incredibly strong.

Upon opening the app and message, you nearly dropped your phone in your haste to discreetly hide your screen. Tom apparently fresh from the shower had sent you a shirtless photo, his damp curls stuck to his forehead as he gave you a mischievous smirk. The towel he was wearing hung low around his hips providing ample view of his wet, well-defined abs. It was nothing you hadn’t seen before, but in the context of your lecture hall, you felt your cheeks quickly gaining a healthy flush.

 The banner that flashed across the top of your screen showed another new snap, and you twisted your hand to cover your face as you clicked on it warily. The photo showed the towel that had previously been wrapped around Tom’s hips now in his outstretched hand. The white towel was a stark contrast against the warm colours you had chosen for your bedroom, and considering Tom’s toned forearm and that damn towel were the only thing in frame, you had little else to focus on.

 This time when the small ghost appeared again at the top of your screen, first red, and then purple to indicate he had sent you a video, you turned your phone’s screen off and placed the device face down against the desk. Your face burned hotly and your heart raced as you squirmed in your seat.  You forced yourself to breathe deeply, reaching for your pen and re-entering the password to your laptop that had fallen dark in your moments of distraction.

 Right, you thought as you shook your head, focus on the Olympian Twelve. Do not think about the fact your incredibly attractive boyfriend almost definitely just sent you nudes.

 The subtle buzz of your phone against the lecture hall desk drew your attention away from the discussion regarding the nuisances of myths and legends. Your brow furrowed; you had your phone set to do not disturb, with the exception of a very select group of individuals. Ever since you had started dating Tom, your previously respectable number of notifications had skyrocketed, and the constant chime of your phone was not welcome in academic settings.

 Once more, curiosity got the better of you and you reluctantly turned over your phone to discover that although the banner was different, the sender was the same.

 TOM HOLLAND (7)

 You pulled down the notification with a swipe of your finger and quickly scanned the messages.

 “Why didn’t you open my picture 😞”

“I made you a special video, darling ;)”

“Y/N!!!”

“Love you, gorgeous xxx”

“Answerrrrr myyyyyy messagesssss”

“Do you not love me? If you did you would open my video ;)”

“Respond plz”

 You turned off your phone completely after that. There were only 20 minutes left in your lecture and he could wait that long. Maybe you would make it longer if he continued in his current vein, you thought as an email from him with the subject “LOVE, COME ON” flashed in the upper-hand corner of your laptop screen.  You didn’t bother to read the preview.

 The next 10 minutes were rather uneventful, and you hoped that Tom had finally gotten the hint. He was well aware of your schedule’s busy nature despite its stark contrast to his own. For the most part, he respected that.

 “Hey guys, it’s me, Tom Holland.”

 Your head whipped around in your seat, the sound of Tom’s voice coming through a tinny phone speaker an unexpected occurrence in your Classic Mythology lecture. The girl who was holding the phone shot you an apologetic look devoid of recognition as she lowered her volume. You sunk into your seat- despite the new sound level you could still hear the clear, familiar chatter of your boyfriend’s voice.

 “Oh, hello marj1091 and… sorry, I can’t see your usernames anymore, they’re going by too quickly.” There was the familiar sound of your creaking bed and a loud huff, which made you think that Tom had thrown himself down in his typical fashion.

 “Right.” Tom stated, a small pause following his voice as the sound of things moving flowed through the speaker. “I’m on live right now because I’m feeling incredibly ignored by a certain someone who is very dear to me.”

 You had been so distracted by his dialogue that you had missed your class dismissal. Suddenly, the seats around you were emptying and Tom’s voice was being covered by the sound of squeaking chairs and hurried steps. As you gathered your things, you stared at your phone hesitantly before turning it back on. You were intrigued now, if not still a little irritated, about what he was saying about you. Walking outside of the lecture hall, you clasped your phone tightly in your hand as you scrolled through your folders to find the multi-coloured camera icon. You cringed when you noticed you had been tagged in a photo and now had almost 1500 new notifications and mentions.

The newest addition to your tagged page had Tom’s face filling your screen, his hair much less damp than in the photos he had sent you and his muscled chest now covered by a heather grey t-shirt. He was pouting as he clutched tightly to Tess, the dog somehow managing to look forlorn as well. The caption read, “When she’s ignoring you because she’s “being responsible”… Quite sure Tess thinks she’s gone forever.”

 It would have been cute if it weren’t so blatantly manipulative.

 Your teeth ground together as you looked for a safe spot to stop that was not in the way of the ongoing foot traffic. Settling on a nearly empty bench, you sighed despite yourself; you had to admit… he did look good. And that was infuriating given your current need to focus on getting through your school day. His stream was still running, and against your better judgement you pulled it up to catch him in the middle of a conversation.

 “Look, I love that she’s going to class and learning. She’s absolutely brilliant and I’m so proud of her. But being home alone all day is rubbish. What am I supposed to do—?” Oh come on, Thomas, you thought, I’m sure you can think of something. “—Just wait? She should just stay home, it’s better for all of us.” He trailed off, his lips quirking up into a faint smile as he read through the comments, shifting in his spot as you let out a small huff. He nodded his head, reaching for something just out of frame as he spoke.

 “Right, if you’re just joining us now,” Tom said as he held up a photo to his phone’s camera. Your face, smiling brightly as he planted a kiss on your cheek, came into focus as he repositioned the photo and let out a dramatic sigh. “The live stream is dedicated to remembering my girlfriend, Y/N. She’s not dead, she’s just ignoring me because she’s in lectures all day.”

 You rolled your eyes and resisted the urge to comment, allowing others to do it for you.

 “I’M fUCKING DEAD HAHAHAHAHAHA”

“tom ur such a little baby”

“omg Y/N sucks. Who cares about school when you’re dating Tom Holland????”

“take off your shirt!!!”

“tom, you’re literally the loving boyfriend meme and its gross”

“uh, I’m pretty sure I just saw her join the stream?”

 The last comment made you pause, and you watched as Tom processed the slow feed.  He had apparently missed the notification that you had joined in his dramatic presentation, his face breaking into a beaming smile. You felt your lips lifting upwards instinctively despite your mild irritation.

 “Did she actually? That’s brilliant, I thought she would have turned off her phone. Y/N/N, are you paying attention to me now, love?”  He was smiling broadly as he clicked through the viewers before finally finding your username. “You are.”

 “I’m not.” You typed angrily while pursing your lips, chiding yourself. You had no doubt in your mind that this would only encourage him. When the comment finally made its way into his view, he let out a booming laugh.

 “You’re so stubborn.” He shifted in your bed, adjusting himself so that he could sit up more comfortably. “But since you’re here, you really should open the snap video I sent you. Maybe not in class though.” His voice had the same mischievous air to it that his texts had conveyed.

 “what snap video??”

“what’s the video?”

“video? Why are you making it seem like a sexy video? Did you send a sexy video?”

“tom why are you like this?”

“are you sexting her in class, what is this”

“puppy tom no!”

“fuckboy tom at it again”

 The request to join the Instagram live stream flashed across your phone, and you glared at it for a moment before declining. It took a second or two for your action to catch up to Tom’s device, and his face twisted into a comical pout at the rejection.

 “Aww, come on now, Y/N/N. You’re not in class now, yeah? Just-” The comments that were coming now were fast and overwhelming.

 “omg tom let the poor girl learn”

“let Y/N get a degree 2k18”

“take your shirt off!!!”

“girl drop out & be a housewife. id live off that spider man $$$”

“TOM I LOVE YOU. DATE ME INSTEAD”

 “-join for a moment so that I can see your lovely face.” He was relentless, you thought with a small shake of your head.

 You settled on a suitable response and taped it out hurriedly; you had less than 10 minutes now to get over to your new building and you would have to skip lunch, which was truly tragic. “Pictures exist for a reason, Thomas. Stop being a baby. This is a home discussion! And! I’m! Busy!” You weren’t surprised when he chose to ignore the second half of your message.

 “Well, yeah but it’s not the same, is it, love? And I’m not being a baby. Forgive me for wanting to spend time with my girlfriend.” Tom replied with a hint of a pout that was nowhere near as convincing as it could have been had it not been replaced almost immediately by a childish grin. God, he was infuriating.

 You sent “✌️👶”, a sentiment that you thought succinctly conveyed the message you wanted to get across, and rolled your eyes as you left the stream despite your boyfriend’s whines. His incessant contact had thrown you off your groove, and now it was a struggle to get where you needed to be. You grumbled to yourself as you bolted across campus. “Do I call him repeatedly when he’s on set? Does he get roped into live streams because I haven’t seen him in 5 hours?”

 The answer was a resounding no.

 Boy, was he going to have hell to pay when you got home.

___

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[ao3porcelainstorm]

poison ivy & stinging nettles 9

On Ao3

Pairing: Sherlock/OFC

Rated: M

Warnings: eventual violence, torture, swears, adult themes (no explicit smut)

Chapter 8 - Chapter 10

Chapter 9- In 

~~~

Is it better or worse that Moriarty could be woven into this mess with Chemco?

From what I understand from Amelia’s medical notes, she’d brushed the sleeve of death, and without his intervention, perhaps we would have been planning her funeral.

Even though she started as a client, I know I see her as a member of our little Baker Street family, and imagining her gone like that… it’s chilling.

I want this all figured out. Things seemed (ironically) so much less complicated when we were chasing down the murderers of anonymous corpses.

~~~

To her credit, Amelia handled the news surprisingly well. She dropped into the sofa, staring down at the floor wordlessly. Sherlock half expected crying or maybe some brief hysterics.

Instead, she took the information and tried to come up with an explanation, much like Sherlock had been doing when he locked himself away.

“It doesn’t add up,” she spoke up suddenly. “Let’s say he’s working with my mother, why would he do the dirty work himself unless he got a benefit from it?”

“You likely caused him to lose a significant bit of money,” Sherlock reasoned, taking a seat in his favorite chair. “He doesn’t like that.”

“Then why change his mind?” Amelia continued, drumming her fingers on her chin. “Rationally, I did ruin a lot for Chemco and their investors. That hasn’t changed.”

“He does have an unhealthy obsession with me,” Sherlock supplied. “And it isn’t as if we don’t spend a significant amount of time together. He could have come to his own conclusions. He did use John against me at the pool.”

“He must have seen you at the train station,” she agreed. “But, if he was working with my mother, surely he would have known that we were working together on this? I’ve just assumed she’s been monitoring me since I stepped foot in England.”

“Unless she didn’t,” he suggested with a tilt of his head. “Or she tried to betray him, hence why he would go back on his actions. You being dead benefits your mother as well, we have to remember that.”

“Mother dearest,” she scoffed dryly. “She does something stupid like cross a dangerous person like Moriarty, he takes back his actions, leaving up an opportunity to finally connect the dots and present the evidence to authorities. That still breaks up Chemco, and starts an investigation.”

“Have you heard anything from your mother recently?” he asked and Amelia paused, biting her bottom lip and pulling out her cell phone, scrolling through the call log.

“No,” she realized, filtering through a long list of ‘John’ and ‘Sherlock’. “Not a word. She tried calling a month or so ago.”

“I wonder if he has someone on the inside,” Sherlock paused. “Or he’s taken care of the Lydia Brenner problem and now he’s on a completely different track.”

“So, we could have potentially just wasted our time?” Amelia translated, sighing.

“We saved thousands of live, that isn’t wasted time,” he reminded her and she bobbed her head in reluctant agreement. “But, it does open a new chapter in the case.”

“Wouldn’t it be a new case?” she chuckled. “I hope you don’t bill hourly, you might run me to ruin by the time this is done.”

“Make the curry again and I’ll consider it even.”

~~~

John was equally perplexed when they caught him up later that night.

“Mycroft knows?” was his first question.

“That’s what you got from all of that?” Sherlock asked with an exasperated sigh. “Yes, my brother is unfortunately aware of the situation, because the two of you decided to pull him in.”

“I thought we were done,” Amelia tried to justify, but was ignored by the detective.

“And he hasn’t intervened in bringing Moriarty into custody?” John continued.

“I would imagine he’s a difficult person to track down,” Sherlock replied dryly. “Granted, I haven’t spoken to my brother about that particular point.”

“He tried to murder Mia!” John gestured toward her. Amelia perked up, having been doodling on her sketch pad, practicing some warm-up sketches of John’s deep frowns.

“It’s true, Sherlock,” she replied, returning to her drawing. “I did nearly get murdered.”

“It’s impossible to think with you two around,” he sighed. “Moriarty will come to us when he decides it is time. We have to be ready.”

“Business as usual then,” John didn’t seem particularly pleased about the tune of events, but who could blame him? There wasn’t much any of them could do except wait for the next shoe to drop.

Mycroft had enough evidence against Chemco, and a text update confirmed arrests would begin to be made as soon as the next morning.

“Do you make turkey during your not-Thanksgiving, basically Thanksgiving-, dinners?” Amelia asked, adding a daisy to the corner of her sketch.

“My mum made goose,” John replied with a fond smile. “It’s been some time since I’ve had a good Harvest Festival dinner.”

“Goose,” Amelia pulled a face. “What about ham?”

“Too sweet,” Sherlock shot it down immediately, scowling. “You would want something savory.”

“Lamb?” John tried.

“I’m just going to make an insane amount of mashed potatoes, and you’re all going to be happy about it,” she sighed, throwing her head back.

“Ah, come on, it won’t be so bad,” John tried reassuring her. “If you need help, I’d be happy to offer a hand. Lamb shanks are delicious.”

“Lamb,” she repeated. “Okay. When in Rome, I suppose.”

“You’re in London,” Sherlock supplied, pulling out a large leather bound book and opening to the first page.

“You don’t get any,” Amelia pointed her pencil toward him, frowning. “If you’re nice, maybe you’ll get pie privileges back.”

“You’re making pie?” John lit up, and the pair continued planning the full spread for the upcoming dinner.

It was nice to take their minds off of death and destruction, if only for a few hours at a time.

John eventually excused himself to bed, leaving Sherlock and Amelia reading and drawing, respectively.

Sherlock, midway through his book, lowered it to check the fire and steal a curious glance in Amelia’s direction.

She’d fallen asleep, her sketchbook plopped open over her chest, her hand dangling over the edge of the sofa.

“Go to bed,” he nudged her knee with the tip of his shoe, but she didn’t stir.

Sighing, he stood up, grabbed her sketchbook, and moved to set it on the desk, when the picture she’d been working on had caught his eye.

She’d been sketching a picture of him, buried in his book, with notes indicating she intended to turn it into a more formal portrait. At the top, a small section denoted potential colors for his eyes, with her scribbling names out, the pencil dragging across the page as she fell asleep.

The drawing was incredibly well done. She’d gotten every detail, the subtle frown when he concentrated, the way his fingers gripped the book itself- holding it nimbly with a trained violinists hand.

He’d always thought her smart, she’d long proven her ability to work complex equations and cite the classics. But this proved to him an element he’d, to his embarrassment, had overlooked.

The always observing artist's eye.

Was this how she was always able to interpret the tiniest shift in expression? She had so quickly determined his elusive attitude earlier was about the hospital footage. Had he tried to successfully keep a secret from her for longer than a few hours?

Tucking the book aside, he grabbed a blanket off of John’s chair and draped it over her. He poked the fire, added a little more wood, and repositioned himself back in his chair, eager to pick up in his book where he’d left off.

It felt like the first time he’d truly recognized and valued John’s insight on a case. Certainly the doctor had been a refreshing change in pace and dutiful companion prior to that point, but after Sherlock had his revelation, he’d begun thinking of John as a partner rather than an assistant.

Perhaps that’s what was happening here, having finally gotten to know the American woman, he could see beyond the fixed smiles and excitable outbursts.

She was kind because she observed and watched those she cared about.

His eyes drifted back to the sketchbook.

People she cared about...

It left a funny feeling in his chest, something new and hard to explain.

Three and a half months had felt like years. The way she had fallen into Baker Street, and his life, felt so natural- he’d almost forgotten what it felt like when it was just him and John.

Initially he’d been amused by their houseguest. She was a fun puzzle, a new client who’d leave the moment the case was resolved. He’d taken her straightforward emotions for naïveté, a crucial mistake.

While others he’d encountered in his life had been outward about their brilliance, she kept it close to the chest, a refreshing change of pace that confused him greatly.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Amelia yawned, rolling on her side, her hands folded under her cheek.

“I don’t understand how you’re capable of falling asleep anywhere your body drops,” he answered, adjusting his shoulders and lifting his book back up. He didn’t read.

Instead, he stole a sideways glance at his companion.

Amelia smiled sleepily, turning onto her back now that he wasn’t facing her.

“I tossed and turned in New York,” she admitted softly, her voice barely floating above the crackle of the fire. “Maybe dealing with all of this has helped.”

He hadn’t expected an introspective answer, having assumed she would have chimed back with her usual quip. She stayed still. He could have sworn she was holding her breath waiting for something- a response- from him.

Sherlock cleared his throat, a nervous tickle catching before he spoke.

“Your research could still bring a lot of good,” he offered. Pathetic. He cringed inwardly.

“I guess,” she sounded deflated. “I never wanted to work for her, or any of those big companies. Honestly, if she hadn’t threatened disowning me, I probably would have just studied art and lived quietly in an overpriced room in Jersey.”

“Sounds dreadful.”

“I wonder if it would have been,” she mused. “Comparably, ya know? Never having had to force myself through things I hated, to do work I despised, for a person who never truly cared about me.”

She paused, letting the words fall before she choked out a breathy laugh.

“Maybe it isn’t too late to find a cottage somewhere and paint trees,” she shifted in the blankets. “Find a nice creek to stand in, cry a little.”

“It sounds like you’ve been reading too much poetry,” he teased. She hummed under her breath.

“Is that such a bad thing?” She sat up, setting the blanket aside and stretching. “You should get some sleep. It’s late.”

He kept his face tucked into his book, pretending to ignore her. He heard her tut under her breath, returning to the blanket only to drape it over his shoulders.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she smiled again, retreating to her flat in the basement, a long drawn out yawn following behind her.

He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until she was out of sight. Taking a slow inhale to calm his nerves, an unfamiliar scent caught him off guard.

Fragrant, but with earthy, warm, undertones. A perfume.

He leaned into the blanket, taking a deep inhale. His mind flickered to Amelia posing him under the towering golden plants at the Conservatory.

Sunflowers, his tired brain filled in.

She’d changed her perfume from the peony one she favoured.

Why?

He tucked himself deeper into the blanket, the floral scent mixing nicely with the smell of burning wood and old books.

Chapter 10

[mjwatson]

the MJ/gwen debacle

“mary jane loved spider-man and gwen loved peter parker / gwen is the better character and love interest than mj.”

i’m sorry, i’m just tired. so i decided to make a master post once and for all bc i am over itttt.

anybody who has been following me longer than a week probably knows i despise gwen. not necessarily because of the character, but because of her fandom. BUT i am going to try my absolute best to remain professional and not let my hatred for the character seep into this. i mean... i am only human so i can’t promise i’ll be perfect, but let’s do this.

let me start this off by saying, i despise the mindset that if you don’t read the comics, you’re a lesser fan, and i despise the people who look down on people who only watch the movies. that is not what this is about. i am not trying to flex my comic book muscles at you. you’re entitled to your opinions and don’t have to justify them or be incredibly knowledgable in your opinions. but if you are only a movie fan, and find yourself spreading FALSE information about a FIFTEEN YEAR OLD inaccurate portrayal of MJ and a five year old portrayal of gwen stacy that is JUST as inaccurate (as her character in the TASM movies are heavily based off of MJ), that’s not cool. do not be that person.

so if you want to know how both relationships went down in the comics, feel free to read on. please be aware this looks like a long ass post, only because i included a lot of comic panels. if you want to just read the text then the post will move along a lot quicker.

gwendolyn maxine stacy. very first appearance in the amazing spider-man #31 with harry osborn and flash thompson. throughout this issue, gwen thinks how despite peter not being built, that he’s smart and good looking, attractive etc. peter has been in his head all day because his aunt was sick.

gwen decides to finally talk to him after thinking that he’s cute.

when peter can’t give her the time of day, she gets icy and storms off. 

some other things happen with peter, still has his mind elsewhere, and gwen stacy tries again.

not being able to handle the fact that he isn’t giving her attention, and getting mad about it. she then isn’t in the next few issues. when she does reappear, she’s revelling in the attention she is getting.

then gwen and peter’s first real interaction happens.

still icy cold towards him. then she doesn’t appear for another few issues. the next time we see her, she persist.

still no luck. she’s still angry and tells him she thinks he’s a coward.

literally all she has done so far since being introduced is be mad lmao. and then she literally just makes fun of him. i’m not even skipping scenes or anything.

sure peter could be more friendly and not so immersed with his secret identity, but you never know what’s going on with somebody, so this behaviour is just immature to me (i mean i blame the writers, but since gwen is a character written by these writers, unfortunately that’s how she is). in the next scene she’s – shocker – still mad, and even tries to slap him. to be fair, peter’s a douche in this scene too. bad bad writing.

idk if this is their way in trying to build up sexy fiery passion or something... but it was just executed so poorly. gwen was mad because peter wasn’t giving her attention so she pouted about it, and then now they are enemies? whaaat.

but i guess that interaction... somehow worked? because in the next scene she’s sticking up for him a little. so that cool of gwen, props.

over the next few issues, not much happens with her. she either just appears and doesn’t say anything, or thinks about peter, or they flirt a little bit like this:

so that was issue #31 to issue #41. 10 issues. of gwen being mad at peter for not paying attention to her, and them starting to flirt a bit when he finally did. 

then in issue #42, mary jane watson is brought up, and gwen is not too please about it, gets pissed off, and takes it out on flash.

peter fights some baddies, goes back home, and then the iconic face it tiger scene with mary jane watson happens 11 issues after gwen’s first appearance.

the next issue we get to take a look at how the blind date is going and... let me warn you....... mary jane talks so fucking weird/funny oh my god. these comics do not age well. her lingo makes me cringe but i love her anyways. what we gather from this is that she’s fun and peter is smitten with her. she’s easy going and is taking drama classes.

she’s care free and doesn’t take herself too seriously.

then rhino stuff happens and peter is thinking of a way to bail on mj, but then she suggests they hop on his motorcycle and drive down to the action to see it for themselves. 

so then pete blows her off cause he has to do spidey things and when they reunite, mj isn’t mad about it, and they actually make plans to hang out some more.

he then bumps into flash, harry and gwen, and they give him a hard time and peter compares gwen to mj, saying that he bet mj wouldn’t stand by like gwen did when flash was bullying him.

the next issue they’re all hanging together, studying, and mj walks in, and they all meet her for the first time.

the first thing mj actually does is address gwen, being perfectly pleasant. then she takes peter away on a date, and gwen gets jealous and takes it out on flash.

peter becomes very smitten with mj.

but then peter cancels their plans on her twice in a row and she doesn’t get mad at all. she just stays chill about it. but she ends up making other plans, and peter sees her and harry out to go to the disco, and peter is an ass.

over the next bit they all hang out together, peter and mj are flirty, gwen is finally letting her hair down a bit and dancing. they’re all becoming pals!

then peter wants gwen again bc peter can’t make up his fkin mind clearly, and gwen is the one to blow him off this time. the good thing is, she’s being nice about mary jane at least! i do like how they are friends in the comics.

peter goes back and forth on gwen and mj for multiple issues, they both clearly like him back. nothing too groundbreaking to share as of yet. i’m just thankful for mj and gwen’s friendship. i hate how people forget that when pitting the girls against each other.

this is pretty much one of the only times it’s mentioned that gwen is into science tho...

then peter and mj are hanging, and gwen shows up.

gwen says something very interesting in the panel above. peter jokes wondering if mj is ever serious, and gwen says “far more often than she’d like you to suspect, mr. p”. this kind of foreshadows mj’s actual character, how she’s a party girl, flaky, care free, and it’s all a mask. because in reality, she had an awful, abusive home life, and not being serious is how she copes with that. so that was insightful on gwen’s part, or just some forshadowing from the writers.

not much happens for a few issues. then peter and gwen have their first kiss.

then a baddie tries to use mj as a shield, and peter saves her. she’s the first to swing with spidey! and then mj jokes about it and brushes it off because she’s strong af.

then peter and captain stacy got in a kerfuffle and they were fighting, and cap stacy was about to whack peter with his cane, but peter’s spider senses wet off and knocked cap stacy to the ground. gwen ran in and saw it, and got mad at peter.

not much happens for awhile. everyone is so preoccupied with their own problems. peter can’t stop thinking of gwen, she is still mad at him, etc etc.

it’s funny bc the readers were preferring mj at this time despite them trying to make the peter/gwen thing a thing, so stan lee made mj get a god awful, ugly haircut in hopes it would make people like gwen more.

still lots of drama with gwen’s dad, gwen is still not talking to peter, but they both think of each other, mj isn’t in the comics for a bit.

but then gwen’s dad finally tells gwen what happened so then they’re all good again.

so then they’re good. they’re dating again. but this happens lmao

then gwen gets mad at him later on for constantly disappearing. while gwen does get mad too often, i agree with her on this because peter is very flaky (for good reason, but she doesn’t know that).

mary jane is MIA from the comics for a long time and the non spidey scenes normally just consist of gwen and peter being good for a little bit and then inevitably fighting again over something dumb.

more of just contant on n off again, happy n pissed off at each other, etc etc, i think the writers were out of ideas lol. THEN 17 FREAKING ISSUES LATER MJ FINALLY RETURNS. with better hair.

then peter and gwen are really good and in love, then gwen and peter get hit by a truck, peter doesn’t visit gwen in the hospital till later cause of spidey stuff, gwen gets mad at him for it. LOTS OF BACK AND FORTH GOD DAMN.

then it finally got enough and in a frenzy peter tells everyone he’s spider-man, and gwen does not take the news well.

but then at the end of the issue he says he had the flu and didn’t mean what he said and gwen was happy again.

but then peter was with cap stacy when he died, and people blamed spider-man for captain stacy’s dead.

resulting in gwen hating spider-man because she blamed him for her father’s death.

then gwen says she’s gonna move to london to live w/ her uncle. and peter doesn’t want her to go. and they say i love you and it’s sweet, but then she mentions how she hates peter’s other half again.

gwen goes to london and they breakup.

all throughout the comic there’s always little things like this where it’s very clear mj is into peter. she never even remotely talks about spider-man, it’s always about peter.

but gwen is still peter’s high school sweetheart and he still loves her and thinks about her, and she him.

so she comes back to new york.

then they’re in looooove. but there’s not much content of them being together n happy for the next few issues, it’s mainly just spidey fighting bad guys. then when she does come back peter is rude n lies to her and then gwen is sad again.

THEN THEY’RE FINE AGAIN GJDSKSGJDKG I CAN’T KEEP TRACK

okay you guys it honestly goes back and forth so much. they’re good, then they’re awful, they’re good, then they’re awful. so i’m not going to be providing those panels anymore because i think you get the idea that it’s pretty unstable.

she does stick up for peter though, which is pretty awesome.

but then

the time has come

where gwen dies

and then one of the most iconic peter/mj moments happen. peter lashes out at mj because he’s broken about gwen’s death, but despite mj being flighty due to her abusive upbringing, she sticks around anyways.

they originally had her rushing over at the end to hug him, but instead changed it to her just closing the door because that held more weight.

she’s there for him.

mj sticks up for peter and harry, but she’s treated like shit by yet another man.

and here you can see very well how mj really wants to be there for peter, but then her guard is up because all she knows is men treating her like trash. and to prevent anyone getting close to her so they can hurt her, she pushes them away and doesn’t let them in.

but the death of gwen do make them grow and look after each other, getting closer to each other for wanting to be there for each other.

gwen’s death still heavily on peter’s mind, though.

the thing i don’t get about the whole ‘mj only loved spider-man not peter parker’ argument is that MJ WAS SO FUCKIN OBVIOUS ABOUT HER INFATUATION WITH PETER ALL THE TIME AND NEVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT SPIDER-MAN EVER?

but i love these panels below so, so much. really shows how hard it is for mary jane to let people in/admit her feelings. but it’s very clear she does love him, but peter isn’t emotionally available yet.

except despite them both being stubborn about their feelings, they grow closer and closer.

but peter’s still haunted by gwen.

but then peter and mj have their first kiss, and it changes everything forever.

gwen comes back as a clone, and then this happens.

but then after they depart, this immediately happens, and this has been confirmed that mj and peter solidified their relationship ~*by doin it*~ and it was peter’s first time.

and then thinking of her gives him the strength to fight back.

and then their relationship grows more and more very beautifully, mj letting peter in, peter letting her in. mj finally tells peter she knows he’s spider-man, so she’s the only one who understand that part of his life. 

i’m not going to continue as this post was just about the gwen/mj dynamic while gwen was alive. but if you want to continue reading posts about why i love mj, and peter and mj’s relationship, and how it grew beautifully, you can check out my “reasons why i love mary jane watson” series, as it’s a never ending string of my love!

i hope this was informative. i get so many messages about this so i created this post so i can just direct people this way.

let me know if you have any other recommendations or anything. :)

[junhaoclub]

what you’ve been missing

pairing: junhao  genre: angst + fluff, uni!au  words: 1902 summary: junhui is too damn handsome for his own good and longtime best friend minghao has had enough of it. 

alternatively, minghao gets jealous when a creep hits on junhui and junhui teases him about it later. 

Junhui getting asked out is nothing new.

He’s handsome, tall, smart, cute, funny, deep-voiced, beautiful, always hungry, flexible, and drop-dead gorgeous. Minghao isn’t surprised in the slightest that people ask the elder out almost daily.

Minghao also isn’t surprised that he’s not asked out as often as Junhui is.

He isn’t handsome, or tall, or smart, or cute, or funny, or deep-voiced, or beautiful, or always hungry or even drop-dead gorgeous as Junhui. All he has going for him is his baby face and flexibility. Which isn’t much once he really thinks about it.

Junhui would disagree though. As best friends, they’re required to hype one another up, even though Junhui doesn’t usually need it. He has enough adoring fans in their university alone that Minghao is very concerned about the size of the older man’s ego.

However, Junhui is undeniably attractive. It’s a fact that Minghao has always known. Ever since they were children Junhui had always been favored by the neighborhood aunties and the popular kids at their schools. A flock of people had always followed Junhui around. They were all eager to become close to the most handsome guy in school and maybe get a shot at dating him. Minghao considers himself lucky for being friends with the elder for so long.

It really was by chance that their mothers happened to be in the same book club and planned out playdates for them as toddlers. Still, even the one year difference in their ages hadn’t stopped Junhui from pestering Minghao day in and day out.

He doesn’t know when he fell for the older boy.

That took him completely by surprise.

Even so, Minghao doesn’t say anything about his feelings for the elder. Junhui is pursued by admirers almost daily and Minghao doesn’t want to become one of them. It’s almost pathetic how someone will shove a gift into Junhui’s arms and ask him out on a date, as if they’re hoping to somehow buy Junhui’s interest, but Junhui merely shoves the gift back at them and declines.

Minghao used to keep a tally of how many people had failed to get to Junhui, but in their senior year when he’d marked off the two-hundredth person, Minghao stopped keeping score. Now he just tries his best to not act bothered when yet another person decides they’re going to be the one who wins Junhui over.

And now they’re in that same predicament once again. Well, at least Junhui is.

But also Minghao as well since he doesn’t like the way that Junhui’s entire body is tensed as if he’s ready to run. The boy in front of them doesn’t look like he could harm either of them, he’s shorter than Minghao is and he knows from experience that this boy is only a freshman.

The way Junhui is acting though, Minghao would probably think that the kid standing before them is a serial killer or something.

“Jun-hyung!” Minghao cringes inwardly at the honorific, still not used to the Korean language. “I bought you an Americano!”

The boy pushes the cup he clenched tightly in his hand into Junhui’s and Minghao huffs out an irritated breath when he holds on much more longer than what is socially acceptable before letting go. Junhui keeps shooting him glances and Minghao should probably help him get away, but he already told the elder that his admirers are his own problem, not Minghao’s.

“Hello, um. Haven’t we done this enough already?” Junhui’s voice shakes and Minghao doesn’t like the sound of it all.

“Oh!” The boy says, eyes wide in adoration as he looks up at the taller man leaving Minghao to openly glower at him. “You remember me?”

Minghao jumps when Junhui grabs onto the sleeve of his shirt and nods, answering the freshman’s question. “It’d be hard to forget someone who’s asked me out three times every day this week.”

And despite the fact that Minghao hates getting involved in these things, Junhui is being pestered by this kid and Minghao doesn’t like that one bit. “Are you a stalker?”

The boy looks up at him, his eyes returning to their normal size as he does. “Who are you?”

Minghao feels his brow come together in irritation. The kid completely avoided his question just now and Junhui’s holding onto his shirt as if his life depends on it. Not to mention that he’s still holding that damned Americano to his chest.

“I think the better question is, who are you and why do you keep bothering Junhui?”

The boy rolls his eyes and grinds his teeth while Minghao tries his hardest not to smack him upside the head and get Junhui the hell away from him. The kid before them is giving Minghao a weird vibe that he doesn’t like one bit and Junhui is still clinging to Minghao like a scared child grasping around for its mother’s hand.

“I’m not bothering Jun-hyung,” (Minghao hates the way the kid emphasizes the honorific.) “I’m simply trying to persuade him to go out with me. Now, will you kindly leave us alone so we can plan out our date?”

Minghao is beyond angry at this point. He’s certain that jealousy isn’t what’s fueling him when he grabs Junhui’s hand and intertwines their fingers before holding them up for the incredibly irritating freshman to see. Jealousy has nothing to do with the way that Minghao pulls Junhui a little closer and glares at the freshman while brandishing their hands for everyone in the entire courtyard to see. He doesn’t care what people may say, he just wants to kick this kid off his pedestal.

“My boyfriend, Junnie, will not be going anywhere with a stalker like you. He'll be busy every night of this week, next week, the rest of the month, this entire year and for the rest of his life. Don’t talk to my Junhui-gē and don’t come near him ever again,” Minghao says in a rush, face turning red by the second while the freshman before them shrinks into himself with every word spoken.

Later, Minghao will think that his outburst was a bit over-the-top and incredibly rude, but right now, he’s only focused on getting Junhui as far away from the little creep as he can. Junhui lets him lead, hands still clasped together as they speed walk away with the Americano still in Junhui’s other hand. Minghao lets his feet take them where they want to go and he doesn’t realize until he’s outside Junhui’s apartment door that he was taking the elder home.

Junhui doesn’t live far from campus, in fact, their university offers special programs to help the older students find close living quarters and Junhui had been one of the very few who’d been lucky enough to score a place in the nice apartment block right across from their main campus. So Minghao isn’t all surprised that they got here so quickly, he’s just surprised this is where they ended up. Regardless, he’s still acutely aware of Junhui’s hand in his and quickly releases his hold on the elder, cheeks pink and gnawing on his bottom lip.

The older man doesn’t say anything once Minghao has relinquished his hold on him, he merely sways beside him, hands fumbling in his pockets for his key. When he pulls his key ring out though and wordlessly hands the Americano to Minghao, Minghao forces himself to look up at Junhui and meet his gaze.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Hao,” Junhui murmurs, a grin spread wide across his lips as he pushes the key into the lock. “Americanos are my favorite.”

Minghao laughs, holding the drink back out for Junhui to take once he’s opened his door. “You’re unbelievable, hyung.”

But he’s pulled up short when Junhui braces his arm on the door way, blocking Minghao’s way in.

“Hyung?”

“What happened to ‘my Junhui-gē’, Minghao?” Junhui asks, brow quirked up in question and a wide smirk plastered across his face.

Minghao gulps and tries to give the elder a reassuring grin. “I just said that to make him leave you alone, hyung. You know that.”

Junhui only shakes his head, disappointment clear on his face. “And here I thought you really meant it.”

“What?”

“What? You don’t like me?”

“Hyung, did you hit your head or something?” Minghao asks, peering up into the elder’s face as he does.

Junhui meets his gaze, taking a sip of his americano before he speaks. “Why do you insist speaking in Korean when we’re alone? Call me gēgē more, Hao. Makes me think of home.”

Minghao frowns, forcing himself to speak in their native tongue when he opens his mouth again. “Gēgē. You’re avoiding my question. Did you hit your head or something?”

“You’re avoiding mine, Hao. I asked if you like me or not.”

A pause.

“I do,” Minghao murmurs, his ears and the back of his neck feeling warm.

“Hm. You know, Jihoon told me you did, but I didn’t believe him,” Junhui says, nodding thoughtfully after taking another sip of his drink.

“What? Why didn’t you?”

Junhui merely shrugs, offering Minghao a weak smile. “I didn’t think I was your type. I mean, if you did like me, wouldn’t you pursue me like all the rest?”

Minghao feels his face screw up in distaste. He would never want to be like those people who throw gifts at Junhui just for the sake of buying the older man’s affection. He feels offended that Junhui would even think about Minghao being like all the rest.

“You’re joking, right? You really think I’m going to be like all those pathetic people who throw themselves at you and shower you with expensive things just so that I can ask you out? Is that really the kind of person you think I am?”

“No, not at all actually,” Junhui says, an amused smile on his face as he holds his drink out to Minghao. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before. I guess that’s why I like you too. Do you want some?”

Minghao automatically takes the Americano, but doesn’t sip from the straw, too afraid that he’ll end up spitting out its contents if Junhui really means what he just said.

“You…like…me?” Minghao is too surprised to do anything else but blink as he forms his question carefully, his thoughts completely scattered because who in a million years would have that Junhui actually likes him back.

Junhui smiles, pushing Minghao’s hair away from his forehead before he lets his palm curve against the side of the younger man’s face. “Of course I do. You’re the only person who’s never hit on me and I appreciate that a lot.”

“The only one?” Minghao feels his eyelashes flutter as he takes in this new information. “Even Jihoon-hyung?”

“Especially Jihoon,” Junhui laughs.

“What does this mean for us now?” Minghao asks, watching as Junhui takes his Americano back and leans into his space, his hand trailing down Minghao’s face, over his shoulder, and down his arm, until their fingers are intertwining once more.

Junhui’s smile could very well light up the entire universe, Minghao doesn’t doubt it. There’s very little space between their bodies and their lips and he hopes that space disappears soon because Minghao can barely believe this is all real.

“Why don’t you come in here and find out?”

a/n: i didn’t follow the request exactly (like the part where they’re realizing that they like each other) but! i did follow everything else…mostly.

also, junhao are in the same year cause despite what minghao says, he’s actually very very smart. 

thank you for requesting! i had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy this <3

[darkrccm]

▲

five times meme ✖ selectively accepting

▲  five time my muse thought about kissing yours, and the one time they did.

one.

It had been an… interesting day. Victoria was upset with her, for whatever reason. Rachel didn’t really care to find out most of the time when miss priss would get her panties in a bunch about something Rachel did or said – or simply just was. They were ‘friends’, she guessed, if you could call them that. Frenemies sounded more like it nowadays. They made snide remarks to each other all day, ignoring each others presence in class and even talking shit about each other when the other was in close proximity. Though, it was times like these that Rachel found herself not attracted to it.

Victoria was always so hot when she was bitchy.

two.

It was Rachel’s first official Vortex Club party since being deemed an honorary member. The bass of the music was loud and she could barely hear herself think, a pre-game of a mixture of rum and vodka are flowing through her system as she sits on the couch, eyes lidded as Hayden starts telling her a story that she thinks was supposed to be funny but can’t find the humor in it. Hazel eyes catch glimpse of Victoria, refilling her cup of wine before catching her gaze. Their eyes lock for a second before Victoria comes around and plops down on the couch next to Rachel. 

Hayden finishes his story but when he doesn’t get the reaction he wants he turns away from the two girls, taking another rip from the bong sitting by their feet. Rachel can’t help but stare at Victoria, a grin on her face as she examines the others face.

“What are you staring at?” Victoria laughs and Rachel laughs too.

“Nothing,” She says as she takes another sip from her cup.

three.

Rachel is laying on Victoria’s bed, flipping through some photography magazine while she waits for the blonde to finish getting ready. At a concert she had snuck out see a few days ago she met some guys who invited her to some college party – “It’s going to be fucking rad” was what they said. Lots of liquor and drugs, what more could Rachel ask for?

Pop music is playing softly from Victoria’s phone as she switches in between outfits, scowling as she tries to figure out which one would be the perfect one to help blend in with an ‘older crowd’.

Rachel can’t help but smirk to herself as she listens to the blonde mumble to herself, furrowing her brow at her wardrobe as she finally comes to the decision to stick with her original outfit – from an hour ago. Rachel can’t help the laughter that bubbles up from her core, shaking her head at how ridiculously long it was taking for Victoria to get ready. As she shakes her head she sits up finally, swinging her legs over the side of her bed. She eyes the blonde for a moment, hazel orbs focusing a bit too much on Victoria’s lips.

“You’re hot no matter what you wear, now hurry up and let’s get going before they drink all the good shit.”

four.

No one should be home alone for Christmas – at least thats what cliche holiday movies and Victoria Chase say. Her parents were working the holidays, again, and instead of sitting at home with her cat chilling in her lap while contemplating which crime to commit while her parents were away Victoria had convinced her to spend the holiday vacation at her house. It was fine, she enjoyed spending time with the other and found great comfort in her company even when they weren’t speaking about much at all.

That changed though the night they had dinner with her parents. It was the first time Rachel had seen them all week (Victoria said they were on some business trip and wouldn’t be home until Christmas Eve) and as they all sat around the large expensive dinner table eating foods that cost approximately her tuition and fees for Blackwell, it was there that Rachel caught first hand what the Chase family was really like. 

The blonde kept her eyes on Victoria, listening as the other talked about her successes at Blackwell – running and operating The Vortex Club activities on top of a nearly flawless GPA and still constantly putting her work out into the world for galleries to review.  Her friend spoke with pride and passion, clearly prideful in all of her accomplishments as a student.

“But who’s the top of the class?”

Rachel cringed immediately at the words and could feel a sharp glance by Victoria her way. No words were spoken at dinner after that. Victoria went off on her own once it was over, leaving Rachel to say her ‘thank you’ for the Chase family to allow her to stay there, even if it was making her stomach turn. When Rachel found Victoria, she knew that she was treading on delicate territory. The other didn’t even look up as she entered the room, instead sitting on her bed with her gaze averted down to her feet. 

Rachel stood there in silence for what felt like hours, eyes moving from Victoria to various points in her room. When she finally moved to sit beside the other, she felt stiff. She was conscious to how Victoria sat, her head filled with different scenarios that could play out. Rachel decided to try and break the ice finally in a way that she only knew how.

“Well, they seemed nice.”

Victoria let’s out a cruel laugh, shaking her head in disbelief at her words. Rachel had a half-assed smile on her face, hazel eyes trying to make contact with brown ones. When they finally caught each others gaze, Rachel’s heart picked up but simply Victoria scoffed.

“You’re an idiot.”

“But I made you laugh, didn’t I?”

five.

Things had been different when they got to Blackwell. Victoria hung out with Rachel more, texting her more often and overall just had gotten closer. Rachel had envied that about Victoria. She knew that she exposed anything… unsavory about herself to anyone else the urge to cut them from her life would be too strong. They were opposites in that respect. For an assignment for Mark Jefferson, Rachel clearly agreed to be Victoria’s model when she was prompted. By now the snow had started to disappear from sight but evidence of it’s arrival was still very clear in how the dead trees stuck out against the start white focus of the sky. 

The two had been joking around once the assignment was completed, Victoria taking goofy photos of Rach while she made faces into the camera. It both scared and fascinated the girl how they had become so close when all the odds said that they should hate each other and quite frequently Rachel found herself wanting to cross the ‘friend’ boundary for some time. Up at the lighthouse, they were starting to come down from their high and perched themselves up on one of the rocks. She had lit a cigarette, handing it off to the other before lighting herself one as they watched the sun start to set above the sleepy small town just below.

“You should definitely submit that one photo of me holding my nose up with my thumb and sticking my tongue out to Jefferson. I think that’s the winner,” Rachel teased as she took a drag from her cigarette. “That image will be framed everywhere and when people gaze on my natural beauty they’ll have to wonder – who was that incredible photographer behind the camera? How could they be so lucky to witness a true beauty?”

Victoria smirked at Rachel’s words, a laugh emitting from her throat. “Oh, I’m sure that’s exactly what they’re going to say – or rather, ‘How did the photographer not want to puke when gazing upon this strange creature?’”

Rachel immediately scowled as Victoria barked out in loud laughter. The blonde stuck her tongue out at the other as she crossed an arm under her chest, still holding the cigarette between two fingers. “What, am I not beautiful to you? Do my charms not work on you like they do everyone else?”

“Now, I didn’t say that,” Victoria mumbles through her giggles, brown eyes gazing up at the lighthouse as Rachel watched her. The beginnings of a smile tugged at the corner of Rachel’s lips as she took another drag from her cigarette.

one. ♥

Victoria was getting too close and Rachel needed to put a stop to it before it was too late. She had been avoiding Victoria for a week now, dodging her when walking to class and ignoring her phone as it begun to blow up with text messages. It was going good, besides, the obvious ache she felt from the absence of Victoria in her daily routine. The blonde continued to tell herself that to get any closer to Victoria would be devastating for the both of them and truthfully she couldn’t lead Victoria down the path of empty promises and deceit like she did to everyone else she got personally involved with.

On her way back from class she became aware of the daggers that were being thrown her way and knew that icy stare all too well. Rachel picked up her pace, walking briskly back to her dorm without looking back where she was sure to catch the evil eyes of Victoria Chase. Her heart was racing as she bee lined it for her door, going to close it quickly behind her but the appearance of the other was too swift for her to be able to do that.

“What the fuck is your problem?! You’ve been ignoring me for a whole goddamn week and you won’t even tell me why?” The words are cold and biting as she pushes her way into Rachel’s room. It’s too late now as the door swings closed behind them and they’re alone. The blonde feels her heart begin to sink.

“Can you just please get off my ass? I don’t need another goddamn groupie Victoria,” Rachel spoke harshly but each word only seemed to close its grip on her heart tighter. She didn’t mean it.

Victoria goes red in the face at Rachel’s words and the regret continues to fill every inch of her. Victoria’s getting embarrassed and Rachel knew that this would be hard to come back from. But isn’t that what Rachel wanted? For their friendship relationship to not come back? 

“Just leave me the fuck alone!” Her words came out more choked than she had intended them to and Victoria picked up on her hesitancy. The other took a step closer, the space between them closing. 

“Not until you tell me why,” Victoria is hard faced, her gaze seemingly going through Rachel.

The blonde feels herself wavering. She’s not going to be able to make it through to the end. Her fingers twitch as Victoria takes another bold step forward. The space in between them nothing but a mere few centimeters. 

“Well?” Victoria’s arms are crossed over her chest as she scowls at Rachel, waiting for an answer that was too hard to say. Rachel begins to shake, thrashing her head from side to side before trying to push past Victoria.

“This is such fucking BULLSHIT!” Victoria exclaims as she grabs hold of Rachel’s arm, pulling her back from trying to exit the room and the conversation. As Rachel turns back around it happens in a matter of seconds. Their lips connect in a hot desperate kiss Rachel initiates that leaves Victoria dazed for a moment.

[captaincanarygotmelike]

Fic: Voices Carry ch. 5

So I recently hit 1000 followers on here, which is incredible and insane because I haven’t even had this account for a full year. To celebrate and to thank all of you, I’m uploading the next chapter of Voices Carry a few days early. Yay!

Read on AO3

Read on Fanfiction.net

Leonard woke up propped against the window of a cop car. Sara was in the driver’s seat. She glanced back at him through the rearview mirror, her eyes meeting his for a brief second before they returned to the road.

“Morning sunshine,” she said, “I was starting to wonder if I’d actually killed you.”

“Not quite,” Leonard replied, grimacing as he moved his injured leg, “I take it you’re bringing me to the precinct.”

“Haven’t decided yet,” Sara said, tipping her head to the side, “I was going to, but then you mentioned — no, threatened — my daughter, and I can’t just let that go.”

“Look,” Leonard said, trying and failing to sit up, “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I just need you to—”

“You have until the intersection at 1st and Main to explain yourself,” Sara interrupted, “If I like what you’re saying, I’ll turn left and bring you to the hospital. If I don’t, I’ll keep going straight to the precinct. Deal?”

“Deal,” Leonard said instantly, “but just one thing; don’t take me to the hospital. Take me back to my apartment.”

“Are you kidding? You could have a bullet in your leg!”

“I don’t do hospitals.”

“Fine,” Sara rolled her eyes, “Start talking.”

“Tommy Merlyn.”

“What about him?”

“You know his dad?”

“Malcolm Merlyn? Yeah, I guess I do, a little bit.”

“He is going to blow up Central City.”

“I’m being serious,” Sara rolled her eyes.

“So am I.”

“Okay fine. Let’s pretend you’re telling the truth,” Sara said.

“There’s no need to pretend Lance,” Snart said, “I’m already telling the truth.”

“You’re wasting time.”

“Malcolm Merlyn is part of a group of people called the Legion of Doom. Their goal is to take over the world.”

“And you know this because?”

“I was part of it,” Leonard replied, and he saw Sara raise her eyebrows, “until I found out Merlyn’s plan for Central City.”

“Which is?”

“To level the city with an earthquake machine of his own invention.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sara rolled her eyes, upset at herself for thinking that the criminal would take her bargain seriously.

“Why do you think I stopped working with him? I like high-stakes work, but not that high-stakes. You apparently know the man,” Leonard shrugged, “Does this really seem beyond him?”

Sara opened her mouth to disagree, but found herself closing it just as quickly. He might actually have point.

She didn’t see Malcolm Merlyn often, usually just at Thanksgiving, and an occasional family dinner here and there. He was an eccentric man, very intense and had a flair for the dramatic, especially when arguing for his opinions. Avery was even a bit scared of him, or so she said every time Sara brought him up. She couldn’t not admit that Leonard could be right.

He had noticed her hesitation.

“See,” he said.

“Then explain why you go after a crime ring?” Sara persisted, “They hardly scream world domination. They could barely even hold themselves together.”

“Exactly,” Leonard replied, “You don’t see Merlyn walking around Central City much, do you? He doesn’t need a fully functioning group of people working for him here, at least, not yet. He just needs eyes, he needs people to do his dirty work.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t want to ruin his ten thousand dollar tuxes,” Sara snorted, finding herself slipping into the story Snart was telling.

“You’d think there’s no better front then a low budget crime ring. They’re motivated enough to do what he tells them to, but disorganized enough that they can’t actually do anything more than that, but—”

“But that’s his downfall,” Sara finished, catching Leonard’s drift, “They’re too disorganized. As soon as you take out the boss, they completely fall apart. They’ll turn against each other trying to figure out who’ll take his place and they won’t be able to build themselves back up again.”

“Now you’re getting it.”

“So that’s why you killed that crime ring leader a few weeks ago.”

“I may not be strong enough to stop Merlyn right now, but I can at least buy us all some more time.”

“Funny, I kinda would have thought world domination would be Captain Cold’s type of thing.”

“I never did what I do for the power,” Leonard said, turning to stare stonily out the window, “I do it for the money. I want my sister to have a good life.”

“Why don’t you get a job, like the rest of the world?”

“Most places aren’t too keen on hiring criminals, Lance,” he said, looking away from the window to meet her eyes, “As I cop I’m sure you’re aware of that.”

“Why do I feel like that’s your excuse for not even trying.”

They pulled up to the intersection at First and Main. The seconds ticked by as they waited for it to turn green. Leonard could see the lights of the precinct down the street.

Finally, the traffic light changed.

Sara turned left.

Leonard let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“I take it you’re not turning me in.”

“I know I should be,” Sara admitted, “but for some reason I feel like it would be a worse mistake if I did.”

They arrived at their apartment building a few minutes later. Sara walked around the side of the car and opened the door to help Leonard out. He winced as he put his weight on his bad leg.

“Why again am I not taking you to the hospital?”

“I don’t do hospitals,” Leonard answered.

“You could have a bullet in your leg!”

“I’ve had worse.”

“At least let me look at it,” Sara said, helping him into the lobby.

“If it helps you sleep at night.”

Sara rolled her eyes as she watched Leonard try to climb the stairs.

After what seemed like eons, they reached the third floor.

“I should change out of these clothes,” Leonard said, as he withdrew his hand from the leg of his jeans to see his palm and fingers wet with blood.

Sara nodded as they turned into their respective apartments.

“Lisa,” Sara called once she entered her home, “I’m back. Was Avery good?”

“She always is,” Lisa replied, closing her magazine and standing up from the couch, “She’s asleep now.”

Sara nodded.

“Did you get Captain Cold?” Lisa asked stiffly.

“In a sense,” she replied, unsure whether she should tell Lisa that she knew her brother’s secret, “Sorry about asking you to do this on such short notice. If you ever need a favor—”

“You’ll be the first one I call,” Lisa finished, heading towards the door. She crossed the hallway and returned to her own apartment.

“Lenny,” she called out.

“In here,” Leonard replied. She followed the voice into her brother’s bedroom where Leonard was replacing his heavy parka for a hooded sweatshirt. Her eyes instantly travel to the already blood-stained leg of his grey sweatpants.

“Oh my god,” Lisa exclaimed, “Lenny, what happened?”

“Got shot,” he said nonchalantly as he placed the cold gun in its sealed case behind a framed painting, “It’s just a graze. Sara said she’d take care of it.”

“Sara?” she repeated, “Since when did Sara take care of anything? Wait, does she know? Len, too many people already know, don’t you think—”

“I’ve got it under control,” Leonard narrowed his eyebrows angrily at his sister, “Don’t wait up.”

She didn’t look any more convinced, but she also didn’t say anything, so Leonard brushed past her and back out towards Sara’s apartment, trying to ignore the throbbing sensation in his leg. He knocked on the door across the hall and it was almost immediately opened by Sara.

“Hey,” she said, stepping back to let him into the apartment. He had adopted a slightly more lumbering stance to compensate for his bad leg. It didn’t go unnoticed by Sara, who gave him a strange look as he passed through the doorway.

“I don’t think I’ve ever said what a nice place you’ve got here,” Leonard drawled, stepping through the doorway.

“Be quiet,” Sara glared at him, “Avery’s sleeping and if she wakes up you’re dead.”

“That makes it sound like I want her awake,” Leonard said. That did nothing to reassure Sara.

“Let’s just get this over with so you can get out of here.”

“You sound really sorry about shooting me,” Leonard raised his voice slightly, causing Sara to glare at him again and glance back towards Avery’s bedroom.

“I still don’t understand why I can’t just take you to the hospital,” Sara commented, pulling a first aid kit out of a cabinet.

“The thing about bullet wounds,” Leonard said as he sat on a barstool at the counter, “Is that people want to know why you got them. They ask questions, and I’m not a fan of questions.”

“For some reason, that doesn’t surprise me,” Sara replied, “But you should know my medical training is fairly minimal.”

“You offered to do this. Anyway, aren’t you supposed to be a cop?” Leonard watched warily as Sara soaked a grey washcloth in the sink.

“I’m a homicide detective. The people I work with don’t really need medical attention anymore.”

Sara gestured for him to prop his leg up on the adjacent barstool.

“This might sting,” Sara warned. She pulled up the cuff of his sweatpants. Leonard hissed through his teeth as the damp washcloth touched his skin, “I told you. Stop moving or it’s gonna be worse.”

They both heard a shuffling noise from down the hallway.

“Shit,” Sara swore under her breath. She grabbed Leonard’s hand and placed it on the washcloth, “I have to go check on Avery. Keep holding this down.”

Sara moved towards the hallway but before she’d left the dining room, she was cut off by Avery.

“Mommy, you’re home!”

“Yeah, I am,” Sara smiled, “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I can’t sleep when you’re not here.”

Sara tried to block her view of the kitchen, but gave up when she saw Avery glance around her, right into the room she wasn’t supposed to see.

“Mommy?” Avery whispered, tugging on Sara’s sleeve.

“Yes, what is it Avie?” Sara knelt down, glancing back at Leonard briefly.

“Why is Lenny bleeding all over the kitchen?”

“Oh, well,” Sara cringed, “At work tonight, I sort of hit Leonard…with a bullet.”

Avery’s eyes widened, “You shot Lenny?”

“It was an accident,” Sara said quickly, “and he’s going to be okay, so don’t worry!”

“Okay,” Avery replied quietly, looking worriedly at the floor. Sara watched Avery’s mouth slowly spread into a smile.

“What?” she asked.

“ ‘Member the time that boy Ryan was throwing crayons at me?”

“Mm-hm,” Sara nodded.

“And you told me it’s ‘cause he likes me?”

“Yes.”

“So ‘cause you shot Leonard, does that mean you really like him?”

Sara could practically hear a smirk spread across Leonard’s face. She closed her eyes.

“No,” she quickly shook her head, “I don’t think so, Avie. I do think you’re supposed to be asleep right now. Go back to bed.”

“Can I say goodnight to Lenny first?” Avery whispered, leaning closer to her mother.

“Sure,” Sara sighed, standing up and letting Avery step around her into the kitchen.

“Hi,” Avery said bashfully.

“Hey kid,” Leonard said, wincing as he twisted in his chair to better face her. Avery’s eyes instantly went to the red-stained washcloth pressed to his leg.

“My mommy shot you.”

“That she did.”

“Did it hurt?” Avery’s face was filled with genuine concern.

“Not too bad,” Leonard replied, “I’ve had worse.”

“You’ve been shot before?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

“Not exactly,” Leonard backtracked, regretting saying anything.

“Okay, Avery,” Sara said, taking her daughter’s hand and starting to lead her out of the kitchen, “You have to go back to bed.”

“Good night Lenny,” Avery waved with her free hand.

“G’night Avery.”

When Sara returned from putting her daughter back in bed, she saw Leonard still pressing the now blood-soaked washcloth to his leg.

“Has it stopped bleeding?” she asked.

“No idea.”

Sara lifted the cloth.

“I’m pretty sure it stopped.” She looked closer at the wound. “You got lucky. The bullet just grazed you. It didn’t even stick.”

“How’s that lucky?” Leonard rolled his eyes, “You still shot me.”

“You’re lucky because I don’t have to pry any bullets out which believe me is painful as hell.”

Sara extracted a medical needle and thread from the first aid kit.

“You really know how to do this?” Leonard asked, watching the needle warily.

“I know enough,” Sara shrugged, “Besides, who else is going to do it if you won’t go to the hospital?”

Leonard didn’t reply, just watched the needle approach his skin.

“You ready?” Sara asked, meeting his eyes, a worried look passing over her face as she saw his apprehension, “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Just get it over with,” Leonard said, attempting to hide his nervousness.

Sara began to stitch up the bullet wound. He flinched every time the sharp needle passed through his skin, but otherwise, he sat as still as possible.

Finally, after several minutes of silence, he spoke.

“While you’re jabbing a needle into my skin, why don’t you tell me your story. I think by now I’ve earned it.”

“Oh really, and what makes you think that?”

“I told you mine, not to mention the whole shooting me thing. Quid pro quo, Lance.”

“I don’t even know where I would start,” she shook her head, trying to hide that, for the second time in one night, she found herself ready to trust Captain Col — Leonard.

“Start with the kid,” he shrugged.

“What about her?”

“Well, for one thing, where’s the father?”

“Out of the picture.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We dated while I was studying to become a cop,” Sara said, not looking away from her needle and thread, “It was going pretty well until we went to this party and we both got so drunk that we couldn’t remember anything the next morning. I found out maybe a week later that I was pregnant, and I, being naive, thought he’d be okay with it. I was wrong.”

“Did he even try to stay?” Leonard asked.

“He was gone before the sentence was fully out.”

“Jackass,” he muttered, “My mom was in the same boat, but she convinced my dad to stay. She paid for that later.”

They remained in a somber silence for several moments before Sara spoke.

“That’s my consolation. I have no idea what kind of father he would have been. He might have been really good, but he also might have been shitty, especially if he didn’t want to be here.”

“It’s better to have one good parent than a good one and a bad one,” Leonard agreed. Sara nodded, “So how’s it been raising her by yourself?”

“I haven’t been,” she replied, “Not really. My parents were a huge help. I lived with my mom up until I moved here and my dad offered to move from Star City to help out. I said no, because I didn’t want to be the reason they give up their own lives, but he still found ways to lend a hand even a city away.”

“Why’d you move?”

“Because I could. I have the money, and now that Avery’s in preschool, I don’t need my mom to watch her all day. Plus, I don’t want to be dependent on anyone anymore, not if I don’t have to be. My mom was actually pretty cool with the whole thing.”

“And the rest of your family? I know I overheard a particularly unpleasant conversation between you and your dad.”

Leonard saw Sara roll her eyes.

“My father is sometimes incapable of seeing me as an adult, at least, not since I told him I was pregnant. He figured out on his own that I’d been drunk at the time, and it didn’t help that he’d never met my boyfriend, who by then was already so far out of the picture it was like he’d never been there in the first place. To him, every decision I make is rushed or selfish or reckless. He hates that I kept working to become a cop, even after I had Avery, and he hates that I am a cop because he thinks it’s selfish and irresponsible and that somehow it makes me a worse mother.”

“And your sister?”

“Laurel? What about her?”Sara asked, glancing up briefly before looking back down at her stitches.

“C’mon you could have cut the tension between the two of you with a knife.”

“My sister,” Sara said, “is still mad at me because over ten years ago her fiancé cheated on her.”

“Tommy cheated on her?”

“No, not him. He’s so out of her league he’d have to be out of his mind to cheat on her,” Sara shook her head, “You heard of Oliver Queen?” Leonard nodded, “That’s the one.”

“I still don’t understand why she’s mad at you for that.”

“He cheated on her with me.”

“Oh,” Leonard replied with raised eyebrows, “Okay, I can definitely see why that would cause some problems.”

“Yeah.”

“Is he Avery’s…” he trailed off, not wanting to finish the question.

“No,” Sara shook her head, “Laurel had the same question. Well, she had the same question after she thought I was lying about being pregnant.”

“What?”

“Sometimes Laurel still sees me as the immature nineteen year old who thought it would be a good idea to sleep with her sister’s boyfriend. She still thinks she’s better than me in every possible way, which was fine when we were younger because most of the time she was right, but now it isn’t. I’ve worked too hard to still be her train wreck little sister who always tries to steal the show.”

“What do you mean?” Leonard asked, his eyes following the needle in Sara’s hand.

“As it turns out, the world doesn’t always happen at times when it’s convenient to Laurel Lance,” Sara rolled her eyes, “The day I told my family I was pregnant with Avery was at a family dinner that my sister was having to announce her engagement to Tommy, which I didn’t know at the time because she hadn’t told us she was engaged yet. I had no idea! My water broke at her wedding reception, which she claimed happened because I was jealous of all the attention she was getting on her special day.”

“She thought you induced your own labor just to make her jealous?” Leonard asked skeptically.

“She admitted she overreacted later, but it didn’t make it hurt any less,” Sara said, cutting the thread with a thin pair of metal scissors, “I just love her so much, and when you love someone, you find a way to love their flaws.” She was quiet for a moment or too, “Speaking of flaws, you’re all done.”

She wrapped a gauzy bandage around his leg several times before rolling down the leg of his sweatpants.

“Those stitches will dissolve on their own in two or three weeks. Try to keep off that leg in the meantime,” she said.

“I suppose I should say thank you,” Leonard replied, “But I just remembered that the only reason you did this is because you shot me.”

Sara raised her eyebrows.

“Thank you,” he amended.

“You’re welcome,” she smirked.

“I should go,” Leonard said, already walking backwards towards the door, “I told my sister to not wait up, which means she’ll be sitting on couch with her arms crossed and waiting to yell at me.”

He was right.

“I told you not to wait up,” Leonard said once he was back in his own apartment.

“We’re not ignoring this!” Lisa said angrily, letting her arms fall to her sides as she stood from the couch, “We’re not ignoring that you told Sara!”

“It’s not a big deal,” Leonard said, refusing to meet his sister’s eyes as he brushed past her.

“It is a big deal, Lenny!” Lisa exclaimed. She grabbed his arm and pulled him back around so he faced her, “Too many people know who you are! First it was Barry Allen, who was actively working against you for the first three months you knew him. Now it’s Sara, who is not only a cop, but the leader of the force trying to bring you down.”

“I have it under control,” he growled, wrenching his arm out of Lisa’s grip.

He stalked into his room knowing full well that he definitely didn’t have anything under control.

He couldn’t control earlier when he’d flinched, not at the pain of hydrogen peroxide against an open wound, but at the electric shock that had passed through his entire body when Sara had touched him.

He couldn’t control how right the felt about telling her about Captain Cold.

He couldn’t control how right he felt about Sara.

God, he was screwed.

Hope you enjoyed! Thanks again for 1k!

[thereluctantinquisitor]

"Amuse me" for Delton and Varlen! They don't seem to interact much, and I think they would be pretty fun together!

Leave “Amuse Me” in my ask, and I will write a funny drabble (AGHH) about one character trying to cheer another up. 

Delton & Varlen (approx 1500 words, most under the cut)

It’s not my problem,Delton told himself for what felt like the fiftieth time that evening. From hisseat at the back corner of the inn, he could see the pale haired elf all tooclearly. The arch of his back, the angle of his head as he stooped over the bar. It was as though he had no desire to face the world. Or anyone, for that matter.

It had hit him hard, apparently. Old Crestwood. Thedrowned townsfolk, the rot, the quiet, empty buildings. Clear as his hand in front of him, Delton could still see the image of a child’s forearm sticking out from beneath waterlogged rubble, pale bones picked smooth and clean. The thought of it sent a tremor down his spine, but he shooedit away. Not like it was the worst he had seen. Not by far. At least they were all dead. Atleast what they had suffered, however horrible, was over. 

At least he hadn’tbeen forced to watch it happen. That was always the worst.

Slowly, Delton took a drink, his green eyes once againdrifting over to the elf. Varlen. There he was, the twin brother of theInquisitor herself, and look at him. You’d think he’d never seen death before.That he didn’t make its acquaintance every time he cut his way through a battlefield.

No… that’s not fair.

Delton let out a quiet breath, swirling the contents of hismug. Dark red, spiced a little. Warm. The perfect mead for sipping and savouring. With more than a hint of regret, he downed it in a few determined gulps as he got to his feet.The act earned him some glances from people nearby, but they all fell short of genuineinterest as the scouts and soldiers returned to their conversations and card games. It seemed everyone was eager to drown out memories of the day. Rightly so.

Crossing the inn, sidling between tables and chairs, Deltoneventually made his way to the counter. Behind it, the innkeeper was leaningagainst the wall, burly arms folded, watching the patrons as they went about thedelicate business of drinking themselves into a stupor. With a loud, obvious sigh, Deltonthumped his mug down on the wooden bar then gestured to it when theinnkeeper’s brown eyes flicked across at the sound. Gruffly, the older man heaved himself off the wall and approached.

“What’ll it be?”

Clicking his tongue, Delton made a show of thinking hard about the question. Too hard, really. “Aye, thatthere is a good question.” He glanced across at Varlen and craned his neck,overacting the part just enough to draw the elven man’s attention. “Reckon I’llhave what he’s having.”  

The innkeeper cocked a bushy eyebrow at that, then shrugged.He ducked down, filled the mug with something from below the bar, then returned to thump it down in front of Delton. “Right then. No charge.”

Surprised, Delton just flashed the older man his most charmingsmile, then turned to Varlen. The elf had shifted on his stool, angling himself towards Delton. He looked perplexed. Mistrustful. That made sense, Delton supposed. He knew who Varlenwas, of course, but that didn’t mean the recognition was mutual. To him, Delton was just another face. Another hapless body in uniform. 

Good.

“Bottom’s up?” Delton asked, raised his mug, lilting the words and turning it into a question. After a moment’shesitation, Varlen nodded and mirrored the movement.

“Sure. But you’re going to be disappointed.” 

Delton raised his mystery drink to his lips with his best we’ll see about that look. Then he took a gulp.

It was water.

“Well shit, you’re right about that.” With a forced yet surprisingly natural-sounding laugh, Delton set his drink back down and shook his head. “Ah well, suppose it’ll do mesome good, eh? Clear my head a bit.”

He’d only had onedrink. A piss-weak one at that.

But regardless, Varlen smiled, seeming to relax a little, and Delton let his meager misgivings slide. There had beena stiffness about the elven man when Delton had initially approached. He’d worn the tight back and shoulders of someone waiting for a fight. Or aninsult. Whichever came first. With quiet satisfaction, Delton watched that tension melt away, drop by drop, piece by piece until all that was left was a young man smiling into his mug of water. Varlen’s slender fingers danced absently around the rim.

Maker’s breath, he is young…

“So um… what’s your name?”

Delton hid his surprise with an easy smile. He really shouldn’t be surprised, after all. It was a perfectly normal question. “Delton.Pleasure.”

“Pleasure. That’s a funny last name.”

The comment blindsided Delton for a few moments, but before he could collect himself and respond, Varlen snorted, his face splitting into a cringing smile as he shook his head. “Sorry. That wasa bad one, wasn’t it?”

Delton regarded him for a second, then allowed himself to give into an embarrassingly genuine chuckle. “Bloody awful, more like. Ah well, lucky for you, that’s just my kind of humour.” Lucky for me, too.

Another smile flashed Delton’s way, this time without the accompanying grimace. “What, the worst kind?”

“Aye. The kind were folk are just as likely to laugh, groan,buy you a drink, or clock you in the face.” Delton grinned then spread his hands. “But I always did love a good gamble.”

Varlen huffed a laugh. “I thought I did too, but it turns out I’m no good at them,” He sniffed as he took another long swallow of water. “Yeah... last time I madea bet, I ended up stuck on the battlements in my smalls. It was freezing.” He glanced across,caught sight of Delton’s surprised face, then winced sheepishly. “Don’t ask.”

Delton proceeded to fix him with a long, flat look. “Oh comeon, you can’t say something like that and expect a man not to ask!” He pressed a hand to his chest, feigning distress,enjoying the way some of those worried lines on Varlen’s face smoothed away athis over-acted charade. “First you trick me into sobering up, thenyou dangle a story like that in front of me? You’re a cruel one, you are. I won’t stand for it.”

“Hey, the first one wasn’t actually my fault. I did warn you you’d be disappointed,” Varlencountered, but he seemed willing enough to relent on the second point. Maybe even looking for a reasonto. He let out a world-weary sigh, too dramatic to be genuine. “But if you must know… I made a bet thatI could beat someone in a game of drunken darts.”

Delton nodded appreciatively. “Aye, a fine game, that. Practically a nobleman’s sport, as far as tavern bets go.” He turned to lean an arm on the counter, proppinghis chin up on one hand. “Well? Who’d you bet against then?”

Varlen’s face contorted into a shameful expression, like a remarkably self-aware child caught doing something incredibly stupid. “The Iron Bull.”

At that, Delton couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows in disbelief. Even his laughter refused to be stifled. “Oh comenow, lad, really? Him? Maker, of all people to make adrunken bet with…”

“I know, I know,” Varlen replied, chuckling aboutas much as Delton was. “Worst part was that I uh… might have accidentally stuck him with adart.”

“No,” Delton breathed,mouth falling open in a mixture of shock and utter delight. Oh this was just toomuch! “Where!?” 

Please let it be…

“Riiiight in the butt cheek,” Varlen declared, leaning to the side and slapping his own rump for good measure as Delton succumbed to a bout of helplesslaughter. Joining him, face going red, Varlen leaned across, closer to Delton. “B-Best partwas he didn’t even notice until he saton it!”

“Arse of steel, that one!” Delton gasped, reaching up toswipe at his face, tears welling up in time with a familiar pleasant ache in his chest. “Ah…Maker… thatmakes up for the water, lad. Well-bloody-done.”

Varlen grinned, seeming infinitely pleased with himself. “Good! Now, whatabout you?” When Delton fixed him with a bemused look, Varlen continued. “Itold you one, now you have to tell one back. Fair’s fair!”

“Aye, aye,” Delton conceded, raising a hand as if to placatethe younger man. “True enough.” He paused, letting his mind wander back. Backthrough countless taverns and inns, brothels and upper-class haunts. He’d beento them all, one way or another. Technically. But he needed something very specific…

“Well?” Varlen prompted. Delton flashed him an appropriately irritatedlook.

“Don’t rush me, lad. All right, let’s see…” He nodded to himself,mostly to play up the suspense as Varlen watched, blue eyes wide and intent. “I ah, playeda dice game with a fella with no arms once?”

Varlen frowned at that. “What? Really?” He paused, mind clearly ticking away behind that furrowed brow. “Wait... how?”

“He used his mouth. Spat them out right onto the table.” Deltonsmirked and took another drink of water. “That right there? That’s dedication. You see, he loved a good wager, andwe were playing for some big coin by the end of it. Got so excited I half expected him to swallow his dice by accident.”

The satisfaction was not lost on Delton as Varlen leanedforward, enraptured by such a simple story. “So what happened? Did you win?”

Delton arched his brow at that, playing up his confidence to fit the lad’s almost fizzing enthusiasm. “Win? Aye, of course. Always do.”

Varlen seemed utterly taken in by that. “Really? Can you tell me h…” He hesitated, then trailed off for a few beats. “Wait… does that mean…” Those blue eyes flicked up, and Delton gave him a roguish smile. Varlen’s mouth dropped open. “You cheated!”

“Aye. I love a goodgamble, lad, not a stupid one.” He shrugged, the reached into his pocket,fishing out a pair of dice. “These here? Weighted dice. Got a whole lot of them, too. Best to swap them in and out as you play. Lose a round here and there too. Makes it harder for folk to tell you’re up to no good.” With a flick of his wrist,Delton tossed the pair of dice onto the counter. They rolled, then settled, the first on six, the other on four. Curious, Varlen reached out, picked them up, androlled. Six and two. He did it again. Six and five.

“Remind me never to gamble with you,” Varlen noted skeptically, thenglanced up, meeting Delton’s eye. “So, what? Did you get caught?”

“That time? Aye, I did, actually.” Delton grinned crookedly at Varlen’s shockedexpression. “Fella had a keen eye, what can I say? Made up for the lack of arms.”

“Did he get mad? Start a fight?” Varlen seemed almosttoo interested in the fallout. Thenagain, Delton supposed he was just a curious mind looking for a distraction. Everyone loved a good story about a scuffle, himself included. 

Varlen squirmed then leaned forward again, almost far enough to tip his stool. “Well? Whathappened?” 

“Nothing.”

Varlen paused, mouth already open, ready to launch into anotherbarrage of questions. He clamped it shut, a confused expression washing overhis face before giving way to a frown. He was clearly displeased by that response. “Nothing?” he repeated flatly. “Just… nothing?”

Slowly, like a cat stalking a mouse, Delton glanced aroundthen leaned forward, motioning for Varlen to do the same. To anyone watching, they would have looked like a pair of scheming urchins. They got so close Delton could feel Varlen’s anxious breath warming the air.

“Aye. You see, turns out…” Delton let his expression slide into a sly grin.“He was ‘armless.”

“…”

Delton winked and leaned back as Varlen fixed him with a long, disbelieving look. It was the look of a man bested at his own game.

“Oh you bastard…”

[itsiotrecords-blog]

http://ift.tt/2ra7yF4

Meet Haley, a 20 year old. She’s no stranger to stress, that’s for sure. She’s nine months pregnant with the baby Jesus. She’s been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. She’s appeared on American Idol. She’s donated a kidney to her brother. Her uncle is Dr. Phil, and her father is famous rapper Eminem. Now which of the above statements are false? Well just about every single one of them, actually. Which shouldn’t come as a shock to any reader here, because this confused young woman was featured on Dr. Phil. It’s amazing what some people will say in order to get ratings on television. It’s enough to be called “cringe-worthy”. All the same, that doesn’t stop Haley (yes I realize she shares the same name as one of Eminem’s actual daughters), from going off about her delusions…in spite of evidence to the contrary. So sit back, and enjoy reading about some extra strange things you might not already have known about this perhaps delusional, attention-seeking young woman who thinks Eminem is her father.

#1 She Has Proof Her Dad Is Eminem So Haley does have one thing in common with one of Eminem’s daughters. Her name is Haley. It’s a different spelling, but at least she has that. And apparently she even has proof that Eminem is her father. Unfortunately Dr. Phil is in the way of the second photo, but there is a guy who looks not very much like Eminem there. With Haley as a baby. On the left is an actual photo of Eminem with his Hailie. There really is no match. And besides, Haley also thinks that Dr. Phil is her uncle. Of course, if Dr. Phil were Eminem’s brother, then there was something very strange about that family. And for sure Eminem would never admit to something like that. Haley has admitted that she was at least wrong about Dr. Phil, but she still doesn’t really seem sure. But proof is very relative to her…much like everyone she sees apparently.

#2 Her Family Thinks She’s Nuts! First of all, there is no resemblance to Eminem in any of these women. Hands down. Second of all, Haley’s sister and mother both think she’s gone into a “delusional tailspin”. And one can’t really blame them for thinking Haley is a bit crazy. After all, this is a girl who thought she, Eminem, Dr. Phil, and Jesus could all be related. Her sister is a bit more direct with how nuts she finds Haley. Her mom, on the other hand, actually just pretended to accept Haley being pregnant, when it was clearly either an obvious lie, or a delusion. I guess I’d struggle too if I was accused of sleeping with Eminem though. I think the above photo really does lay out the attitudes in these women very well. From left to right: Haley is clearly a bit off centre. Her sister simply refuses to accept Haley as anything but nuts. And her mom just can’t fathom what’s going on.

#3 She Claimed To Be Nine Months Pregnant At the time of one specific episode of Dr. Phil’s show, Haley had claimed to be nine months pregnant. That’s not insignificant by any means! She even went as far as to say she was due five days from when the show aired. That morning, a T.V. doctor had a nurse take an ultrasound of Haley’s abdomen. Of course, as seen in the photo above, there is absolutely nothing to see. By nine months, there should be a fully developed baby filling up about half of that screen. In typical Haley fashion, she denied that the ultrasound was even real, and she even told the doctor to “shove his ultrasound up his ass”. Which, let’s be honest, is kind of funny. And likely something the producers of the show told Haley to say anyway. One thing you can always count on in reality T.V. – how unrealistically funny it is.

#4 She Was Carrying The Baby Jesus! Oh it should be mentioned that, while Haley was faking a pregnancy on Dr. Phil’s show, she claimed that she was carrying a very special child. What child is this? Why the baby Jesus of course. And no, the father of her child wasn’t Latino. She actually believed that she was going to give birth to the Christian “saviour of the world”. Well…who knows if she actually believed it. She at least adamantly defended this position on the show. She wouldn’t trust seven pregnancy tests, nor a pelvic exam, nor even an ultrasound. She was convinced, in spite of all scientific fact, that she was going to be the new mother of Christ. Any church worth their weight in bullsh*t should have picked her up right away! They could have made a killing with her.

#5 She’s Got A Quick Temper Alright, so maybe her temper isn’t actually as quick as reality T.V. might make it seem. To her credit, Haley had been through therapy, and rehab, and several medications by the point of this incident. She was a small room with several people, being told that she should go back to treatment for a short period of time. Well she of course got upset by this. She did the treatment already, and thought that should be that. Then her mom started in on how she needed it. Well Haley wasn’t having that, and made to storm out. But Dr. Phil’s staff wouldn’t let her leave the room. If I were a paranoid schizophrenic, I would become quite agitated by being trapped in a small room like that, with people I know want to put me away. And of course she lost her mind. She started kicking furniture, almost slugged one of Dr. Phil’s guys, and screamed continuously in her mom’s face.

#6 She Was Born For Harvesting Organs Haley, as it turns out, has a half brother. I’m not sure if he’s from Haley’s mother’s half, or Eminem’s half, but he does actually exist. The relationship between Haley and this half brother must be quite strained though. Why, you might ask? Well Haley has it in her head that she’s actually only alive for one reason. And that’s for her organs to be harvested for her brother’s sake. She claims that she has already had a kidney taken from her, that was donated to her brother. Of course her mother denies this. And she’s not alone. Science also denies this. But Haley is quite adamant, and refuses to accept anyone’s proof to the contrary. It doesn’t help her that whenever someone shows her proof, it’s after the fact. If they showed her an active scan of her kidneys (plural), then maybe she’d be forced to accept some truth.

#7 She’s A Bit Paranoid A bit paranoid might be putting it mildly. This is a woman who, whenever she enters a room, must check every closet, and crevice to ensure that no one else is there waiting for her. Of course it’s not typically the case that someone is, but I guess you never know. Now this could just be a story she’s made up to accentuate the paranoid in “paranoid schizophrenic”. It’s not like she hasn’t made up stories before. Of course those stories could actually be delusions, and she could actually have a problem. It’s hard to accept that because she’s on T.V. with Dr. Phil, but it’s possible. And since every time she turns around, it seems someone is trying to put her away, her paranoia is not without some level of justification. So there’s at least that.

#8 Mom Is Not Helping Things At All As trying as I’m sure it must be to have a daughter who is as seemingly batty as Haley, her mom is not really helping matter in anyway. She’s the exact type of person who figures getting on to Dr. Phil’s show will be all she needs to do, and then he’ll pay for everything else. And then Haley will be all better. Ultimately I’m pretty sure she’s just given up as a mother. That or she’s an incredibly privileged brat. Either way, it seems her best solution is to keep sending Haley to this program or that, so she doesn’t need to deal with her. The truth of the matter is, if Haley really does have issues (which it seems pretty clear she does) she needs her mother to be on her side. That doesn’t mean that mom should say “hey look my little Haley is the mother of Jesus”, but it does mean that she has to actually be supportive. I know that, and I don’t have 20 years of being a T.V. doctor under my belt.

#9 Haley Diagnosed Herself…And She’s Not Wrong! So here’s why her family needs to be a bit more attentive, and supportive of Haley. Haley was the first person to say that she suffered from paranoid schizophrenia. This was a claim she made, without being officially diagnosed. She would tell everyone she had been, but it was a self-diagnosis, for sure. Her mom simply decided that Haley was putting on a show. A very extravagant, and committed show…but still a show. Well, it turns out that Haley is not wrong. She is being treated and medicated for paranoid schizophrenia. So how about that mom? And does she even for a second act like she made a mistake, just ripping on Haley for making things up? Nope. So Haley actually has issues that need to be dealt with. Issues beyond being just a compulsive liar.

#10 Some Improvement So yes, there was a time when Haley thought she was the mother of Jesus. And when she thought Eminem was her father. And when she thought Dr. Phil was her uncle. But as dead sure as she was about these things when she first appeared on the show, she has since recanted. That may seem pretty trivial, but that’s a pretty big thing for someone who actually suffers from schizophrenia. Of course these decisions flip flop based on what meds she’s on, and if she’s taking them regularly. But these are still predominantly understandings she now has. She knows, realistically, that these things did not occur. However, as much as she improved in that sense, there have been deeper, and darker discoveries regarding her state of mind.

#11 She Hears Voices… So Haley may have actually made some improvements throughout the number of episodes she’s graced with Dr. Phil. She doesn’t think she’s pregnant anymore. She doesn’t think Eminem is her father anymore either. But she is very aware that she hears voices. And that’s something completely apart. Now she did mention during her first visit with Dr. Phil that she looked up paranoid schizophrenic, and it described her. It could also just be that she looked it up, and decided to make herself the definition of schizo. After all, she didn’t start hearing the voices until after her treatment began. Maybe it’s the medication then? Ultimately, she’s either very good at faking, isn’t faking, or medication is causing her to have psychotic episodes. None of these options are really desirable.

#12 She Hears The Voice Of Jesus…Her Baby… So she’s given up on some delusions. But she hears voices now. And there are some generic voices in there, telling her that her mom is out to get her and what not. And really…her mom is ultimately out to get Haley put away, but that’s besides the point. There is a pretty important voice that she’s hearing in her head. It’s her baby! The baby that she already admitted she wasn’t really having after all. The baby Jesus! Yes, apparently she hears her baby Jesus talking to her from time to time. What does he say? I’d assume nothing because he’s a baby…but he’s also Jesus, so there is that. Apparently he assures Haley that he is alive, and doing well. Which is…pretty special. And kind of on the nose for Christianity. Much like the “real” Jesus: a lot of people claimed to see him, but there’s not proof, but he still talks to people.

#13 Even Her Church Thinks She’s Nuts! So Haley is a good, church-going American…or at least she was. But her church has come out to say that she’s nuts. They didn’t use those exact words, but they clearly think she’s crazy. Why? Ok, yes she did claim to be carrying the baby Jesus inside her. But really how is that too far from anything her church believes? I think it’s actually amazing that her church had enough integrity to not use her as a huge publicity stunt. “The girl who carries the second coming of Christ!” They would fill seats in that church faster than you could say “Billy Graham”. People go to see statues that cry vegetable oil. If you ask me, I think this church of Haley’s missed out on a great business opportunity. Or they have some surprising integrity…or they fail to see the similarity between her story and theirs.

#14 How Did She Get Pregnancy Medicaid? Ok, so Haley’s whole deal with Dr. Phil started when she was claiming to be pregnant…with baby Jesus. After seven pregnancy tests, it was pretty clear that she wasn’t even in the smallest bit pregnant. But while she can’t seem to hold down a job, or move out of her mother’s house now that she’s an “adult”…she seems perfectly able to get on Medicaid. And what’s more, she managed to get pregnancy benefits from Medicaid! I’m not an American, so I’m not fully sure, but don’t you have to prove you’re pregnant before you start on that policy? Apparently not! And somehow this fact is hardly touched on during the several episode Dr. Phil production that was Haley’s life for a while. Could she have been pregnant all along? I mean at the start. Obviously not when the ultrasound came back totally clean nine months later.

#15 Knifing The Neighbours!? Relax. She didn’t actually knife the neighbours. Not exactly. But apparently she did pull a knife on her neighbours. Now there is no proof of this, other than Haley’s word. And let’s face it, her word is about as factual as the beautiful baby Jesus. And Haley has not been charged for threatening anyone with a weapon. But take a close look at the photo above. Look at it for a minute. And after you get past the thought of whether or not you’d sleep with her…ask yourself if you think she’s capable of pulling a knife on someone. Considering how she acted when trapped off set when she was dealing with Dr. Phil’s assistant, I would not be surprised if she made the news for pulling a knife on mom. After all, her mom is the one who keeps trying to put her away. On the other hand, her mom is also the only one who is financially supporting her in any way (other than Uncle Dr. Phil).

Source: TheRichest