#This was totally written based on how I felt about Christmas the last few years...

[21skhf4]

All I Want For Christmas Is You

I had a specific player in mind when I wrote it, but I left it generic, so you could imagine your favorite player. Happy Holidays all if you celebrate! :)

********

Christmas had always been one of your favorite holidays growing up. There was just something about decorating the tree, and seeing all the houses decked out in lights. It was something you looked forward to every year growing up.

As you had gotten older though, your perspective had shifted. Sure, you still enjoyed the trees and the lights, but it wasn’t the same. Especially when you had started working. In your line of work, there was no such thing as a holiday, and the first time you had to work on Christmas and miss out on the experience with your family, you bawled so hard for the next day. It wasn’t the same doing the gifts on the day after Christmas.

The next year, you were working night shift and worked Christmas day. You drove home and did Christmas with your family on Christmas Eve, but it still wasn’t the same. You had left your job after that Christmas, and at your new job, you only worked until noon on Christmas Eve (and sometimes got the whole day off) and you got Christmas off. Things still felt off though. You’d take yourself around for a drive to see the lights at night after you got off, but it still didn’t have the magic it did when you were a kid. You tried to pinpoint it, but you couldn’t.

Finally, this year, you felt like getting in the Christmas Spirit. You knew what had changed. It was the goofball who was currently dancing around in the Santa hat while Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” was playing in the background. 

You started laughing at him. “Babe, seriously?” You asked, chuckling as he about ran into the tree you were setting up. You had always had an artificial one, and it was pre-lit, so it was a win-win.

“It’s a classic!” He said, grinning, reaching out a hand. “Come on, dance with me.”

You took his hand and let him spin you around. The song then switched to Nat King Cole’s “The Christmas Song” and you swayed around the living room. When the song finished, you said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“This.” You pointed to the boxes and tree. “Thank you for getting me back in the Christmas spirit this year.” You tried not to, but you felt the tears start.

“Oh, sweetheart.” His arms tightened around you and he kissed the top of your head. “You’re welcome.” You stayed there for a minute before he pulled back. “Let’s decorate that tree, eh?”

“Ok.” You laughed. 

He grabbed the box of ornaments. “What do you want to start with?” 

“The boxes of icicles and balls.” You said. He handed them to you, raising his eyebrow and laughing when he saw the colors. 

“What can I say? I was a Kraken fan long before I met you. Plus, those were my junior hockey team's colors. And Team USA colors.” You laughed. “And we are putting blue on that tree this year. We can do a Team Canada tree next year.”

“I can work with that.” He said. Together, you placed the icicles and balls in an even blend, laughing and dancing around each other. Once that was done, he looked at the other box. “Do you want to put some of these other ones on?”

“Ok. Yeah, a couple.” You said. There were a few important ornaments you always had on your tree. “Do you have any you want to add?”

“Just one,” he said, “But it has to be the last one we place on the tree. It’s tradition to do it last.”

“Alright.” You started digging through the box, picking up the ones you wanted. He made you tell the stories behind them as you did; you found yourself laughing at some of them, and crying at others. He listened and added an ornament to the tree (one with the Kraken logo on it). He told you some stories of Christmas at his house growing up too.

Finally, the tree was decorated, all except for the last ornament he said he wanted to put on. He told you he’d be right back and went down the hallway. As he started coming back, he yelled for you to close your eyes. You did as you were told; you could hear his footsteps get closer and then his hand was on yours. “Open your eyes.”

You did, and found him holding an ornament that said “The Best is Yeti to Come”. You couldn’t help the giggles that escaped. “That is perfect! Find a spot,” you said, listening as he explained the family tradition behind the ornament. Then he paused for a minute. “I actually have one more, if that’s ok?” He asked.

“Of course. It’s our tree. You can put as many as you want on there.” You looked at him. “You want me to close my eyes again, don’t you?”

“Please.” You did, and you felt something being placed into your hand. You waited until he told you to open your eyes, and when you did, a fresh batch of tears hit your eyes. “Babe.”

“I wanted to do something special for our first Christmas together.” He said, “I saw this one and thought it was perfect.”

“It is,” you agreed, looking at the couple tangled together in the Christmas lights, with the “Our First Christmas” and the year below it. “Come on, let’s find a spot to put it.

Somehow, it managed to end up right front and center and drew the most attention. It was perfect though, and you had a feeling as long as the two of you were together, Christmases were going to be a lot of fun.

Especially when you went driving and wandering through the neighborhoods looking at all the lights. The magic had returned; you felt like the giddy kid going “ooh” and “aww”. He would laugh at you and hold your hand, and it was like the piece that was missing. 

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @marigoldvance based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Gen.

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

Fast away the old year passes... (part 3 out of 4)

---

The day had taken a turn from strange to absolutely obscene in the span of ten seconds and Kíli wasn’t sure how to mentally and emotionally absorb and process what was happening.

He’d been lazing about on the customers’ side of Rosie’s counter, twisting his hips in half-moons on the dusty pink stool, eyes semi-focused on the dough Rosie was cutting shapes into for the afternoon shift. Kíli had given himself the day off, tired after three long days and subsequent nights of madness in Word Soup and had decided to stop in at Rosie’s for a pastry and a cup of strong Khandian coffee.

One pastry had turned into two had tumbled into taste-testing the broken discards from the batches Rosie pulled out of the oven. The music had been light and cheerful, the Top 40 chart with some Christmas tunes tossed in, and the bakery had been in a lull when the strangeness occurred.

The bell tinkled behind Kíli, as it’d done a few times since he’d made himself a permanent fixture at the counter, and a throat cleared. Kíli had almost gone full-tilt kamikaze at Rosie’s stunned expression, his mind instantly propelling him into the Worst-Case Scenario since Rosie never looked stunned, unless something terrible was about to go down.

Kíli had hurled himself around and forewent the step he’d used to climb into the stool, dropped the extra inches and positioned himself between the stranger and Rosie. Except. It hadn’t been a stranger at all.

Fíli shuffled his weight from foot to foot awkwardly, a boyish smile on his winter-kissed face. His hair was longer than Kíli had last seen it, braided, and fastened in traditional Dwarvish style, and he was dressed in clothes designed to be casual but were obviously expensive.

            “Fíli?” Kíli gaped when his brain caught up to the present. “Wha—”

            “I love you.”

            “—aaaaaaaaaaahhhhtt?”

See what Kíli meant?

Right there.

Strange had tipped over into the obscene.

Fíli looked as gobsmacked as Kíli felt, as though he hadn’t meant to say it, but he stood his ground and held Kíli’s gaze, blue eyes wide like a startled deer. Kíli scratched his eyebrow, biding time to think of what to say. Behind him, Rosie said, “Heya, Fee,” though her tone was breathy and nervous. Fíli blinked, turned away from Kíli to lift a hand in greeting and smile at Rosie.

            “Hello.” He said with a hint of awkwardness. And then he returned his stare to Kíli, “Uhm, I’m sorry.”

            “Yeah.” Kíli said immediately, “As you should be. What the fuck, Fee?”

Kíli wasn’t angry at Fíli for leaving for years and breaking several promises to visit. They spoke from time to time, very rarely, but it did happen, and Fíli was always on time with his half of the rent for the shop (which Kíli had insisted he stop paying, but Fíli was just as stubborn and refused to do so). Kíli wasn’t angry that Fíli had waltzed in all charming and put together, totally unannounced. Not at all.

No. Kíli wasn’t angry at any of that.

He was, however, pissed as hell that Fíli decided to blurt t h o s e three words at Kíli without any warning before Kíli had been able to get his bearings. What kind of prick—!?

Fíli cleared his throat, shifted the strap of his duffel, and skidded his gaze across the expanse of the dining room, offering hesitant smiles at the two other patrons – both of whose jaws had dropped at the sight of a celebrity casually walking in and declaring his love to the local bookstore owner. Kíli would cringe at the Hallmark cliché of it all if it weren’t for the fact that he was still reasonably ticked off.

            “Can we, erm, sit down, maybe?” Fíli asked, nodding toward Kíli’s place at the counter.

Kíli peered over his shoulder at the plate of broken cookie pieces, then back to Fíli, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure he wanted to have any sort of conversation here and there definitely needed to be one.

            “No.” He said, and just as Fíli began to deflate, Kíli added, “We’ll go to mine.” He jerked his chin in the general direction of Fíli’s duffel, “Where’re you planning to stay?”

Fíli blushed and replied, sheepishly, “I didn’t think that far ahead, actually.”

Kíli rolled his eyes skyward, “Typical.” However, his tone was light, and his lips slowly curled like a petal in amusement. “Fine, we’ll go back to mine. We can call Lobelia about a room from there.” He added because he was feeling salty.

Obviously, Kíli wasn’t so cruel as to force Fíli to suffer Lobelia’s obnoxious demands when booking a room at her inn, but the brief flash of panic that crossed Fíli’s face felt marvelous.

When Kíli turned around to say his goodbyes to Rosie, he found his plate had been transferred into a small Halfling sized box, the smell of two warmed pastries rising from within as he neared to collect his coat and give Rosie a kiss on the cheek.

            “Good luck,” She whispered as he was balanced across the counter. She winked, then waved cheerfully at Fíli, bidding them both a good afternoon before telling the two other patrons to, “Quit your staring, I will not tolerate rudeness in this establishment!”

Their jaws snapped shut with synchronized click.

[creativeskullcreations]

Buddy’s Problem part 2

Okay! Part two is done! Part three probably isn't gonna be until after the New Year, though, but it should be the final part.

Enjoy the story, and have a Merry Christmas! :D

As it turned out, being a campaign manager was pretty difficult, especially when Buddy had to travel to a whole different town for it. Filbo lived in a small farming town called Kinsing. Several other members of the expedition lived there too, though Wiggle, Gramble, and Cromdo lived in Gippsenburg. Either way, apparently Filbo wasn't very well known, having moved to Kinsing recently.

That was useful, and Buddy could totally work with that.

First was getting him nominated, which was easy as anyone could throw their name in. Filbo actually did that himself, though he needed some coaxing from Buddy to actually put it into the box. They then went out for burgers(not Bungers, thankfully) afterwards. They were joined by Beffica, who was shocked that Filbo was running for a real political position.

"Like, seriously? That's awesome you squeeb!" She gave him a soft punch to the arm, which he winced at. She didn't notice, or maybe just ignored it. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"Well, I mean, I ended up doing pretty good back at Snax- on Snaktooth, so I figured I might as well try for the real thing." He told her, rubbing the soon-to-be-bruise. "Worst thing that could happen is I'll lose to Robbzoni."

"Ugh, Robbzoni. He's the worst." She helped herself to Buddy's fries, even as he tried to yank the plate away from her. "He's the real reason we don't have anymore flowers by the roads. He kept stealing them, so eventually the town stopped replacing them."

"How the grump did you find that out, Beff?" Buddy asked before shoving the whole handful of remaining fries into his mouth. She just shrugged and went for Filbo's plate instead.

"I snooped, Bestie. Just like I always do. Did." She corrected herself quickly, looking away. "I, uh, used to do that."

"So..." Buddy searched for a new topic. "What do you do now, anyways?"

"Oh, I got hired as a reporter at CGN. It's a bit of a commute, but not so bad." She shrugged. "And my coworkers aren't so bad, either."

Ah, the rival for GNN. Buddy remembered all the fights that had broken out between reporters at events. He also remembered the time he raided their office with some of his coworkers and stole all of their paperclips. It was in retaliation for them stealing all the rubber-bands at GNN. Which was to get back at them for stealing all of CGN's staples.

Good times.

"Here." He dug out a bottle of pepper-spray and handed it to the shorter Grumpus. "You'll need this."

"Uh." She looked between him and the large canister. "... Thanks. I think."

"No problem." He took a long drag on his soda as the conversation drifted away from him. Which was just fine, as he was busy brainstorming anyways, writing down plans and ideas into his journal. So far he didn't have a lot, but he'd talk to Filbo about it later and see what they could do.

Maybe a party? Filbo always seemed to like them, back on Snaktooth, so maybe that would be a good way to win him some votes.

The rest of the time passed by in a blur. Events were held, debates, parties, even a couple of bake sales that reminded Buddy of his school days. Speeches were made, each carefully crafted to have the best effect on the small populace of the town.

Wambus was actually a big help with that. As a farmer himself, he knew what to say to get and keep the farmers on Filbo's side. So they ended up conferring with him a lot, which meant going to his and Triffany's house a lot.

He was a surprisingly good cook, honestly. The meals they shared there were some of the best Buddy ever ate. He really would miss those nights when everything was done here, but that was no reason not to continue the "quest" for Filbo.

It was one such night, where Wambus had grilled some delicious steaks and corn on the cobs. He also had some homegrown sauces that he'd brought from Snaktooth, which made Buddy a little uneasy. But, the older farmer seemed to know what he was doing with that so he let it go for now.

"You seem to be getting pretty popular, dear." Triffany was saying to Filbo as Buddy doodled in his journal. He flipped it around to show Wambus his idea of a steak-based Bugsnax, only for the farmer to just grunt in acknowledgement. That was good enough for him though and he put the book aside to eat some more.

"Heh, yeah." Filbo rolled his corn on the cob in some butter. "It's all thanks to Buddy, though. He's doing great on the whole 'campaign manager' thing."

"It's not that hard." Buddy shrugged. "Not like you're running for Minister of the Public or something. It's just a few events to plan, and, like, two debates."

"True, but it still seems like a lot of work." Filbo actually looked kind of concerned, but Buddy waved it off.

"It's... it's really not." He told them, even though it kind of was. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a full night's sleep, but it was definitely before Snaktooth.

"It would be tiring to be around all those people all the time." Wambus agreed. "I could never do that."

"Of course not, dear." Triffany agreed. "That's why you're a farmer."

"Yep."

Buddy watched the exchange with a small smile as Filbo took over the conversation, asking after the sauce crops. Whatever problems the couple had, he was glad they were working them out. He didn't want to even think about what would've happened if their marriage had broken up like...

Well, it wasn't good to dwell on it.

Wambus was right though; it was tiring being a campaign manager. He was almost glad the elections were ending soon, if only so he could get some more sleep. And then focus on finding a real job, as his savings were starting to run a little dry.

Still, as he watched his three companions, he felt content with how it was shaping up. Filbo was excitedly explaining all his plans for being Mayor, from replanting the flowers around the walking paths to finally getting the pot holes fixed. He even started explaining his plans to renovate the park in detail before Wambus finally reminded him to actually eat his steak.

"Oh, heh. Right." He cut a piece off, then opened his mouth to keep talking. Buddy took the opportunity to grab his wrist and shove the fork into his mouth.

"Eat it." He told him firmly, to quiet giggling from Triffany. Filbo shot him a glare, but obeyed, chewing quietly. Buddy then grabbed a forkful of his own steak to chew on, ignoring Triffany's pointed look.

The rest of the night passed without incident. In Buddy's opinion, it ended too soon. But then, it always did. And soon enough Buddy was back at his table in his apartment, drawing up more plans for the campaign. Luckily, the people seemed to really like Filbo. Or maybe they just hated Robbzoni that much more. Either way, according to the mid election survey Filbo was looking to be the popular candidate.

Still, he couldn't relax yet, there was still too much to do. The election itself was tomorrow. People would vote in the morning and the results would be announced both that afternoon, and in the next morning's paper. There would be one last speech before the vote though, and Buddy wanted to make sure it was perfect.

However as the time got later, and he had started the speech pretty later anyways, he found himself unwillingly drawn into sleep. Even as he tried to fight it off with copious amounts of caffeine, he inevitably passed out.

When he woke up, it was to Filbo calling him. In a panic, he grabbed his papers and raced out the door, practically flying down the stairs and into his car. He broke several traffic laws, but he managed to get to Kinsing Town Hall just barely on time. As he ran inside, he tried desperately to sort through the garbled mess of a speech he'd written.

He made his way to the backstage area, where Filbo was talking to... someone. Buddy felt like he should know the other Grumpus, but his exhausted mind just refused to make the connection. In any case, as soon as the Grumpus had left he was rushing up to Filbo, rapidly spewing apologies all the way.

"Sorry, sorry! I think I still have some time to, uh, to-to fix this? Maybe?!" His voice rose an octave and he quickly cleared his throat and tried to laugh off the rising panic. "I was up too late I think. Working. On this." He gave another short laugh, internally wincing at how off it sounded.

"Hey hey, it's okay." Filbo had to grab his shoulders, forcing them down from where Buddy had unconsciously hunched into himself. "I've got this one." He told him. Buddy blinked in surprise, hands lowering and almost dropping his papers.

"... You... you 'got' this?" Just what did he mean by that? Was Buddy unneeded? Had he been unneeded this whole time?

"Yeah. Since you've been working so hard lately, I figured I'd just, y'know, handle my own speech for today. " He gave a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry, I probably should've told you sooner-Oh!" He jumped at something the Grumpus on stage was saying. "There's my cue! See ya later!" He gave a quick wave before rushing off to get on stage, oblivious to Buddy's aborted attempt to reach for him.

'He didn't need me...' Quietly, Buddy dropped his speech into the trash. He then went for the snack table they had set up to get some coffee. 'I don't know why I even tried.'

The speeches were said, and then the voting happened. The surprising part, at least to Buddy, was that as they each voted the other members of the expedition would come up to them. A couple offered a "Good luck" or two, but none of them really left afterwards. They all hung around, and talked.

It made Buddy feel even more like he shouldn't have come. Filbo had plenty of people to keep him company for this, he didn't need Buddy Nobody did anymore.

So he sat just a little bit outside of the group, speaking only when someone talked to him directly. Other than that, he just drank his coffee quietly and wondered when would be a good time for him to leave.

It turned out never. The others never forgot about him for long enough for him to be able to slip away. Floofty in particular seemed intent on watching him, and they weren't blinking. He knew this because he straight up had a staring contest with the mad scientist, and they didn't blink once.

Soon enough, voting had closed and the votes were being counted. Poor Filbo was anxious through the whole thing, but never said anything about regretting running for mayor. Buddy was actually kind of proud of him for that, if he was being honest. He knew how hard the light blue Grumpus could be on himself, and he was glad he had gained some confidence at least.

Even if it was just another sign that he wasn't a help to him anymore. That he wasn't a help to anyone here anymore.

But, when they announced that Filbo had won, that he'd done it and beat out longtime Mayor Robbzoni, everyone present cheered. And not just the ones from Snaxburg, either, but everyone else who was hanging around. As everyone congratulated the new Mayor, and the MC announced when the official swearing in ceremony would take place, Buddy gave a quiet sigh into his coffee. Mentally, he ticked this quest as complete, but no new objectives came to mind.

"Hey, Buddy!" He looked up to see Filbo waving at him, and gave a small wave back. "We'll all going to Gramble's place to celebrate. You coming?"

Would he go? No. There wasn't anything for him to do there and besides, he had to get started on job hunting.

"... You guys go on ahead. I'll... I'll catch up with you later." There. Now he could go home and the others could get started on whatever came next for them.

Filbo hesitated a moment, searching Buddy's face intently. Then he shrugged and turned to follow the others. "Well, okay. If you're sure."

And then he was gone, along with the rest. Buddy put down his still full cup and stood up, dusting his fur off. He went to his car, a tiny little red thing that really needed to be traded in, and drove down the road back to Gippsenburg. He had a stop to make before he went home to his apartment, and then maybe he could finally work on forgetting everything.

[palimpsessed]

So @captain-aralias​ did one of these and invited other writers to do the same. And I wasn't really going to because it feels a bit late now and also I've done quite a few other year in review posts for 2020. But then I got to thinking that it would be really nice to have one of these for each year to look back on and compare, which convinced me. So, here we go!

If you’re a writer, I’d also encourage you to steal this. Tag me on your post so I can see your thoughts! 🥰

List of Complete Fics for 2020 1. At the Top of a Tower, With You- General, 900 words 2. Use Your Words- Teen, 16k 3. A Man of Letters, or Five Times Baz Retreats and the One Time He Doesn’t- Teen, 54k 4. To the Manor Borne- Teen, 43k

Total: 4 fics, 113k words

Every one of these fics was written for an event, which, realistically, is the only reason they got finished. I have so many ideas I'm working on all at once, and I came into fandom with a focus on making art, so to actually find the motivation to sit down and write/finish/post a fic was entirely deadline based. And it's a technique I'm sure I will also employ in 2021.

Best/Worst Title?

Well, I've mentioned a few times before that I usually have a title before I have much in the way of a fic concept. I don't really dislike any of the my titles, because they all did exactly what I needed them to do, which was help me focus on what I wanted to accomplish in the fic. Comparatively speaking, though, I can answer this.

Best: Use Your Words - succinct, idiomatic, a book quote/motif that also has the potential to be a spell, does what it says on the tin, is probably what all of us are constantly yelling at Baz and Simon to do throughout the books and the fic itself

(Honorable mention to A Man of Letters because that title forms a perfect heart shape when viewed on mobile on AO3. ❤️)

Worst: At the Top of a Tower, With You - this is also a quote and it fits the fic perfectly, but it is a bit of a mouthful and it has a comma in the middle of it, which, while I love commas, feels a bit off-putting in terms of a title - also, it's always kind of bothered me that it's a Baz WS quote used for a CO-era Lucy POV

Best/worst summary?

Again, I don't really dislike any of my summaries.

Best:

To the Manor Borne: The gang decides to spend Christmas together at Pitch Manor. Romance, hijinks, and holiday cheer ensue.

Anything that lets me use the word hijinks is always good! - it's short and sweet - it does a fair job of setting up the premise for the fic and giving highlights, without giving anything away

Worst: A Man of Letters

I'm not going to include this one because it's so long, I had to cut down the version I posted on tumblr to fit in the AO3 field, which is really why I rank it below my others - it effectively sets up the world of Simon and Baz in Regency England prior to where the story starts, but it is prohibitively long - and it's set up, not summary, so it also loses points for not doing what it purports to do - I could have said exactly what this fic was in one sentence: "Simon and Baz meet at several Regency-appropriate venues over the course of a London season and reflect on their acquaintance in letters", but instead I did the full book jacket version because it was more interesting to me.

Best/Worst First Line?

Oh, this is interesting. I can honestly say that I have no idea where this will go. Going to pull up my docs and find out! Okay, since I only have four fics to consider, and I'm feeling split, I'm going to do two for each. I feel good about my words, but I will say that half of my first lines actually provide information, and the other half are incomplete thoughts. Those were stylistic decisions I made, but when taken alone, it does somewhat limit the effectivness of a sentence when it can't stand without the rest of the paragraph. Perhaps that decision will lure readers in for more?

Best:

In the end, we wind up at Pitch Manor. (To the Manor Borne)

I know that you won't be surprised when I tell you that I do not like writing letters. (A Man of Letters)

Kind of interesting that these both contain key words from the titles 🤔

Worst:

I'm not sure how I'm supposed to do this. (Use Your Words)

I love how the title seems to be answering Baz's question when the two are put together like this 😂

Strange that it should end here, where it all started. (At the Top of a Tower, With You)

The title also seems to complete the first line in this one, too. I'm learning about my writing as this goes on, so that's cool!

Best/Worst Last Line?

Hmm. Okay, again, no idea. Also, a little leery of including last lines for anyone who hasn't read the fics they're from yet. (Tho I guess it's unlikely those people would be reading this😆) But let's see what we've got.

Use Your Words and A Man of Letters have very similar final lines, and both are somewhat spoilery.

Best: The ending of A Man of Letters felt risky to me, in the way that it is formatted and changes tone from the rest of the story. It was something that happened as I wrote it and I loved it. I had no idea if readers would like it, if they would feel like it worked as an ending, but I felt strongly enough about it to let the entire fic hinge on that and I think it really paid off. So, without giving you the actual last line, which is only one word, I'm going to say that one is my best ending.

Worst:

To the Manor Borne: "Carry on, Simon."

It's not bad, it's just not mine.

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, fewer than you thought, or about what you predicted?

I did not set out to write any fics in 2020. I was supposed to be taking a break from writing. I've been an aspiring novelist for half my life now, and have been going through major ups and downs with my writing. I decided I needed to re-evaluate and figure out if writing was something that was even going to be able to make me happy anymore. The answer is: YES! Just…not original fiction. At the moment. I'm happiest when I can write for the sake of writing and not have to DO something with that writing. Which is why discovering fan fiction was AMAZING!!!! 🥰🥰🥰

To actually answer the question, yes, I wrote more than I thought I would. I also wrote exactly as much as I thought I would, simply because these were all things I signed up for (with the exception of my Countdown fic, but I committed to it as if it were something that required a sign up).

I have a lot more ideas for 2021, but I don't know how many of them will come to fruition. I'm not putting pressure on myself to have to do anything beyond what I sign up for again, because it did work out so well for me starting off.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

I mean, the pairing and the fandom were in no way a surprise. 😆 They're my only ones, so those were both a given. The genre is also not surprising.

What's your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest?

A Man of Letters, without any hesitation. I adore it so much. It's the kind of fic I know I will unabashedly sit down to read over and over, even if I'm the one who wrote it. I had one reader to please and it was ME. By far, my most self-indulgent fic.

Okay, NOW your most popular story?

That depends on the metric.

To the Manor Borne leads in Comments (107), Kudos (153), and Hits (1992), and Use Your Words leads in Bookmarks (26).

But since To the Manor Borne is top in 3 out of 4 metrics, I'll say that one.

Story most upderappreciated by the universe?

I mean, the least popular by a wide margin is At the Top of a Tower, With You, but I don't know if I'd call it underappreciated. It's short, it's angsty, it's got a very unusual style, it's Lucy POV, it's the first fic I wrote and posted. I didn't really go into it with high performance expectations. I'm proud of it, I just didn't expect it to be popular. It would be nice if more people read it, but I'm not broken up over it.

Story that could have been better?

I'm not even going to touch this one. Everything can always be improved upon, but if I go down that route, nothing will ever be done. This is one of the things I have come to appreciate about traditional art versus digital. With traditional, there is only so much you can do before something is permanent and you have to live with it. It's an exercise in letting go and acceptance. Digital is flashier and more flexible, but I could (and have) spend months on a single piece and never feel satisfied, never stop tweaking. I think that's also the reason I started to hate my novels.

Sexiest story?

Based purely on overall vibes, I find the understated tension of the Regency the most appealing, so I'm going to say A Man of Letters. I didn't actually stray into sex territory in any of my fics (though Simon and Baz have had sex by the time To the Manor Borne starts, and refer to it, and probably do it "offscreen"), but A Man of Letters is the one that feels sexiest to me. Lots of thirsting!Baz and feral!Simon and sensual hand touching (how risqué!) - and YEARNING. That, to me, is the sexiest vibe of all. So. Much. Yearning.

Saddest story?

At the Top of a Tower, With You - for this one, I tagged "angst without plot" and I stand by that. It's Lucy losing her connection to Simon at the end of CO and trying to find a way to reconcile herself to leaving him alone again. I gave it as much of a hopeful bent as I could, with the refrain of Baz's spoken "love" to cling to, but it's very sad.

Most fun?

To the Manor Borne - All of my fics have their fair share of angst, but this one also has some good, silly, holiday fluff thrown in. Since I wrote it for the Countdown, each chapter was based on a different prompt, which led to this one going in all sorts of directions no single fic probably ever should. Plus, it has the most Shepard, and Shepard always makes things more fun.

Story with the single sweetest moment?

Oh my god. I don't know. No, never mind. I do. It's To the Manor Borne, but it's split between the two gift giving scenes, the Constellations and Secret Santa/Gift Giving prompts. These were private moments between Simon and Baz, sharing themselves with each other, being vulnerable, and communicating. It's the gifts they give each other, yes, but it's more so the reasons they chose those gifts, and how they show part of themselves and share their love for each other, through those gifts, that had me in tears writing those two scenes. I'm super proud of them.

Hardest story to write?

Use Your Words - it was written for an exchange and that made it really hard to write it knowing there was this pressure of making my gift-ee happy with the fic. I'm proud of it, and they really liked it, but the anxiety was too much for me.

Easiest/most fun story to write?

A Man of Letters - if there is a fic better suited to me as a writer, I haven't met it. I started writing after reading Pride and Prejudice in high school, so I started out writing Regency and I spent years and years and years of my life obsessed. When I transferred into college, an administrator I had never met before heard my name during orientation and said, "Oh, you're the Austen scholar." (It is a small, private college, and I was a transfer, so the pool of students was even smaller. But still. Many years later, I'm clearly not over it.) I also did my senior thesis on an epistolary novel (Frances Burney’s Evelina), and my English Lit emphasis was for that time period. So, I felt like I had been preparing for this fic my entire adult life. 😂

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

I don't think so. I tend to let my writing be dictated by the characters, so I'm always following their lead. Sometimes they'll do or say something that surprises me and takes me down a route I didn't necessarily foresee, but I don't think there was ever a point where one of them did something that made me rethink who they are as a character.

Most overdue story?

I will say A Man of Letters, since that one felt like a culmination of my seventeen-year-old self's wildest writing dreams. But I should probably say the Scooby Doo AU I still haven't managed to finish, because that one has been a WIP since I joined the fandom. Oops. (I'm hoping when I look over this in a year, I can feel smug that it's finally done.)

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Writing at all was a risk for me! And writing fan fic for the very first time! Writing an entire fic told only through letters. And then ending it in a completely different style from the rest of the fic. Doing a multi-chaptered fic for the Countdown, using a different prompt for each chapter, and publishing a chapter every single day for thirty days (with the exception of two days that had art). Signing up for fandom events in the first place!

What I learned from taking risks in my writing is the same thing I learned when I took risks in my art this year. I have a much better appreciation for what I've done when I push myself, I feel better about the end product, and I like it longer. I think it's really good for me to challenge myself creatively.

This year's theme and the story that demonstrates it most?

Oh boy. Um. Therapy! Both Use Your Words and To the Manor Borne had their big HEA moments built around sending Simon and Baz to therapy. I don't think that's likely to change for future fics, either. I feel like therapy as the theme for 2020 seems very fitting. (Also, I think I keep sending the boys to therapy because I'm trying to get myself there…)

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

Just to write what I want to write, have fun, not put any pressure on myself, and to take risks in my writing and my art because it will help me to grow.

[pochapal]

I hate doctor 11 but ive never been able to explain why in like words lmao. He feels like such a mary sue character imo and like theres something about his characterisation that was always just really ineffective (like the stuff about fishfingers and custard or whatever it was). Imo i'd love to hear you give top 5 worst things about the 11 era because i rlly just love when it gets torn apart

i hold nothing but a seething contempt and loathing for that man. every time he appeared on screen i felt ready to snap like a riled up chimpanzee in my enclosure. i am frothing at the mouth and overcome with a desire to start flinging heavy objects. this might be incoherent and inconsistent but i started this rewatch in feb 2020 and only finished this week so i got through 11′s episodes last august/september time and i refuse to revisit it to jog my memory or fact check anything i’m saying here because this man does not deserve the space in my mind for that.

the first thing is i can’t fucking STAND the quirky whimsy timey wimey bit he has going on all of the time. i can’t even say this is because this is a kids show and i was a teen and then adult when i first properly watched him but actually!! when i was eleven years old i’d sleep over at a friend’s house most weekends and it always coincided with the airing of a new season 5 episode and i remember we watched the finale with the dumb time hopping to get out of the box prison that was never explained and didn’t make sense and i thought at the time “this is really stupid”. and before that my only other doctor who exposure was watching the david tennant christmas specials with another friend and throughout childhood my only opinion on doctor who was “this is a tv show that is not for me but is one that all the boys i am friends with like so i will put up with it to maintain our friendships” but at least those episodes were both suspenseful and engaging enough to keep me watching all the way through. like who the fuck does an end of the world sci fi plot and approaches it with an “oopsy woopsy i am a funny little alien man who is going to stop you all by making you do a hecking silly” like it’s unneeded and self-parodies an already cheesy show to the point where it becomes unwatchable and makes it impossible to ever take this man seriously.

next thing that downright sucks ass so badly is the stupid fucking overwritten constantly escalating plotlines. like everything from season 5 up until his regeneration at the end of season 7 is meant to be this grand interconnected cosmic plot about how...the doctor trying to bring back his planet will end the universe or something so all the top powers across all of reality tried again and again to stop him from doing that except he doesn’t know what’s going on so he keeps thwarting these people who supposedly mean good?? i mean i sure don’t fucking know what they were trying to say!! like for some reason we never get the doctor suddenly becomes this superdemon that threatens everything so these people (whoever they are) decide to, in sequence: suck him through a time rift to erase him from existence, trap him in a prison and remake a universe without him, take his companion’s baby and turn her into a perfectly trained doctor killer, form two(!!) secret societies to hunt him throughout history that are only stopped by his companion splintering herself across his personal timeline to protect him, and repeatedly cause reality collapsing events because it’s a kinder outcome for the universe than what he will do. this grand and terrible event turns out to be...he spends a few hundred years chilling by a rift that leads to his home planet and protects a few generations of children from monsters which convinces them to give him infinite regeneration power then fuck off back to their pocket universe. and it’s like!! what is the point of anything that happens in this man’s era when everything is always “the darkest moment” or whatever the fuck!! i don’t care!! we never get a compelling reason to believe this bumbling clown of a man could ever be a universal threat!! the whole thing is so dumb i hate it!!!

thing number three i hate is how the eleventh doctor is ALSO characterised as this abrasive egotistic male supergenius to the point where he becomes genuinely indistinguishable from bbc sherlock. genuinely who enjoyed seeing this guy constantly tell people their tiny human minds can’t comprehend what he’s doing and then basically just wave his magic wand to solve whatever problem each episode is facing. 2012 is the year of human sin because this fucking shitsmear character archetype somehow became both a redditor role model AND a tumblr sexyman and it’s like!! nobody is enjoying this stop making this seem cool! him saying timey wimey thing any time he does anything is frustrating and dumb and locks the viewer out of giving a fuck about anything that is happening! smartest man in the room syndrome is a disease and the eleventh doctor is terminal with it. like remember how they established river as an accomplished scientist (when she wasn’t being a child soldier or a time paradox or whatever the fuck) and every time that came up mr doctor eleven man was like “oh this thing is obvious because i’m a genius and you didn’t realise because your brain is tiny so get out of the way and let the grownups think” or that time it turned out amy had been replaced with a slime clone for half the season and the doctor chewed rory (audience surrogate) out for somehow not realising this fact we didn’t know right from the start and like. this served no purpose other than to draw into severe question why the doctor is also this super beloved magical figure implicitly trusted by all children everywhere like. mr steven moffat is totally allergic to writing and solving mysteries in his tv show and fuck you for wanting to figure things out as you go along based on the new evidence you uncover at strategic plot intervals just let this asshole man use magical thinking to reveal he knew the answer all along and you’re a fucking idiot for not also realising this thing which had no basis or precedent anywhere else in the show.

speaking of dumb things let us not forget the absolute shitshow that was minority representation in this era. i’m not even talking about the low hanging fruit of how genuinely unironically sexist amy and clara were written where each episode moffat either seemed to loathe them or was incredibly horny over them and they had no character growth or arc or fucking anything. i’m talking about how fucking shit terrible the incidental representation was. god remember how every single fucking gay person who appeared in this era was written as one incredibly fucking stupid joke and how the women were all either sexy dominatrix, feeble girl in love, or Mother (or all three in some really terrible cases) and i’m not qualified to talk about this but also how incredibly white this era was and how on two separate occasions we had monarchs reimagined as sexy girlbosses with a gun played by black women who the doctor leched over. nothing about any of this was good ESPECIALLY coming off the back of rtd who was surprisingly forward thinking for 2005 and did a really good job of positing travel with the doctor as queer allegory. in comparison moffat gave us THE MOST heterosexual shlock i’ve ever had to endure. amy and rory could have been interesting characters were they not hemmed into this domestic bickering young straight married couple bullshit that was in no way changed or altered by traveling with the doctor except for the quasi incestuous river song reveal that was dumb and bad and stupid.

the last major mega gripe i have with the series is moffat’s fucking jingoistic boner for british military aesthetics. this carried over throughout his entire tenure as showrunner but was super terrible vomit inducing in eleven’s era. the unironic admiration for ww2 britain and winston churchill is downright wretched. are you incapable of telling a second world war story outside of churchill’s london and plucky blitz fighters. shit gives me hives so badly. and then!!! that weird church owned army that features in the future that end up being bad not for the concept of what basically amounts to an imperialistic intergalactic rendition of the fucking crusades but because they’re part of the nonsense go nowhere puzzlebox narrative that says the doctor is a not good man who will do bad things to the universe :(. remember how rtd’s doctor was a freshly traumatised man hot off the war criminal press who time and time again vehemently refuses to engage in military violence, but who tragically inadvertently turns every one of his companions into soldiers in his own personal army, and he has this moment of complete horror at the realisation and it is this which causes the downward spiral that ends in 10′s regeneration. and then how there’s this cringe line about how there’s a force of people who are “the doctor’s army, always ready to fight his battles when he’s not around” or some shit and then it turns out this is actually massive literal military operation and we’re meant to celebrate this. fuck off.

bonus round because this needs to be said but i have never hated anything like i hated that fucking human tardis episode. everything about it induced violent anger in me from the sickening overindulgence of that softgoth dark whimsy helena bonham carter tim burton aesthetic to the bafflingly terrible evil carny stereotype of those junk scavengers to the overblown sudden tragic shipbait romance of human tardis and the doctor. every word out of her mouth was trite shit and the fact that the death of her body was presented as this super emotional dramatic scene despite there being no buy in or incentive to care and the fact that every single person on tumblr in 2012 ate that shit up like it was fucking gourmet. i loathe every single thing about that episode so much.

[lookoolah]

love in every sip (1.9k) read on ao3 for the “coffee” square on my @tonystarkbingo flash card

Tony startled himself awake when he made a move to get into a more comfortable position on the tiny couch that was clearly not meant for sleeping on, which he certainly had a difficult time learning over the course of the years that the tiny couch had found its way to Tony’s workshop (with some help from Pepper, probably). He wasn’t sure whether he woke up in the millisecond that he was hovering in the air between the ridiculous couch and the ground or when he facepalmed into the floor, but awake he definitely was. 

“Ow, shit.” He groaned, looking up vengefully at the stupid sofa. “J, as soon as you can, place an order for the biggest, comfiest couch you can find on the internet, thanks!” He gritted out through his teeth, hoping that the tiny couch felt insecure and unlovable. 

“Right away, Sir.” 

He looked up at the StarkPad displaying the time that he had perched on top of his coffee-table as a make-shift digital clock (whoever said he wasn’t one for interior design?). It was 9am, anyway, so he might as well be getting up now. That is if he was pretending to be a healthy functioning human being that didn’t spend the last 72 hours in his workshop and fell asleep 3 hours ago on this stupid, unlovable couch. 

He made his way to the main kitchen, waving sleepily at the team that was lively bickering in the breakfast nook. Oh right, that’s what they looked like, other people. He thought it would be a good idea to brush his teeth before any silverware made contact with the inside of his mouth lest it immediately corroding. 

After spending way too long sitting on the toilet because his body seemed to enjoy falling asleep in the most uncomfortable of places, he finally made his way back to the now-empty kitchen, where on the counter he found a steaming coffee in the Iron Man mug from the Avengers mugs set that Clint thought was the perfect $15 Christmas gift for the people that literally risked their lives by his side on day-by-day bases. Tony frowned, walking over to the island, unsure whether he blanked out and made coffee in the short interval of semi-wakefulness between sleeping in odd places. He spotted a napkin next to the mug, where a neat cursive looked back at him.

“Good morning, Tony. Please stop pulling all-nighters for three days straight,”  it said. 

Huh? Tony really only had the energy to ponder about when, by whom, and why the note was written and the coffee made for a total of ten seconds before his sleep and caffeine-deprived mind short-circuited and he gave in to the inviting aroma of the drink. And, well, whoever his barista in shining armor was unquestionably knew just how strong and sweet Tony liked his coffee (that being, real strong and real sweet). 

☕.

He really didn’t expect it to become an ongoing thing. He didn’t expect that the next morning, upon walking into the kitchen (from his bedroom this time, thank fuck ) he would be met with the same Iron Man mug on the counter with another napkin neatly placed next to it, its edge tucked under the mug as if to make sure that the soft blow of air from the air conditioning wouldn’t blow it away, care written all over the scene. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead. Glad you actually got some shuteye tonight, finally. Hope you have a good day.” 

Tony read the note over a few times, twice in his head, and once under his breath, with a small smile that he didn’t notice was there until Steve, who was apparently in the pantry, called attention to it. 

“Cheery this morning, huh?” 

“Oh, uh,” Tony looked up from the napkin in his hand, trying to hold back the smile, “You tripped and fell in my dream, still laughing at it.” He lied, protectively wrapping his hands around the warm Iron Man mug. 

Steve chuckled in response, putting down the box of Lucky Charms and reaching above the sink to grab himself a bowl.

“You want some cereal?” He asked, putting down a bowl in front of Tony without waiting for a response. 

“So courteous of you, Cap,” Tony started filling his bowl with milk while Steve was pouring cereal into his, “And they say chivalry is dead.” 

Steve made a face at him, probably about to give a schpiel about why would you pour the milk first, Tony? 

“Why would you pour the milk first, Tony?” He said, handing Tony the Lucky Charms and taking the milk from his hands. 

“Because I’m a certified genius, that’s why.” Tony winked, taking a sip from his coffee. Shit, so perfect again. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to see who made this coffee, would you?” He asked tentatively, filling his bowl with cereal. 

“Didn’t you make it?” Steve canted his head in confusion and brought the spoon to his lips. 

“No, actually, I didn’t,” Tony took another sip of his coffee, “I wonder who did, though.” This time, as he looked down at the dyed marshmallows in his milk, he failed to notice both the involuntary smile he pressed into the rim of his Iron Man mug and the one Steve stifled around a mouthful of his cereal.

☕️.

The random coffee offerings in a particular Iron Man mug and a neat cursive turned regular from then on, and it was starting to become clear that his barista in shining armor was really more of a secret admirer expressing their affections through coffee beans. 

The mugs waited for him at the counter almost every morning, the team off at a mission, the team just sitting down for breakfast, the team finishing up breakfast. The mugs were on a coaster on his desk when he fell asleep at it while working on a new design, while fixing an old design, while ignoring emails from some super important government officials. The mugs, for fucks sake, were sat on an old paperback next to the tiny couch that Tony continued to fall asleep on, even after the biggest, comfiest couch on the internet arrived. 

“Good morning, hope you slept well. You look adorable with bedhead.” 

“Heard you walking around late last night, I wish I could drive off all your nightmares with a broom.”

“Stop falling asleep at your desk, idiot, your neck will get stuck like that.” 

“That couch looks like it’s not meant for sleeping on.” 

Tony found himself growing more and more fond at every note, every word, every sip. He didn’t think that it was possible for him to look forward to his daily dose of caffeine more than he already did, but this new routine indisputably made him jittery with excitement every morning. 

He started to watch the team closely, in an attempt to figure out their tells. Who saw me this morning with my bedhead? Who likes to broom? Who doesn’t like tiny uncomfortable couches?

But, alas, none of the notes had been specific enough to pinpoint someone or even narrow down the list, and Jarvis was refusing to give him any information on the grounds of some “No Stalking Protocol, Sir” bullshit. 

That was, of course, until the afternoon that Nick Fury, somehow Tony’s saving grace in this mystery, called him up to his office. Tony plopped down on the chair in front of the desk, crossing his leg and taking a sip of his smoothie. 

“You should really try this place from down the block someday, I hear they grow all their shit themselves.” He took another sip, the little to no remnants on the bottom of the cup loudly coming up the straw. “Ugh, to die for!” 

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Nick rolled his eye, and Tony wondered whether The Nick Fury Eyeroll pre tragic eye loss accident was more or less puissant. “I need you to look over this report that Rogers submitted and discuss with the team whether or not every update that you insist on installing in their suits has really been necessary.” Nick handed him a transparent folder and Tony cringed at both the utmost ludicrous implication that advancement is not always necessary and at the prospect of paperwork. “It seems to me like on this particular mission they were more of a disruption rather than advantage.” 

Tony flipped open the file and looked up at Nick through his eyelashes, taking one final loud sip of his Blueberry Mist smoothie. 

“I’m sorry, did you just allude to that progress is not an essential part of human existence? My goodness, I did not know you to be such a conservative, Nick!” He clapped a hand over his heart, prompting another eyeroll. The eye patch, Tony thought, definitely made it more effective. 

“Stop bullshitting me and just look over the report, Stark.” Tony chuckled and looked down at the paper, a neat cursive looking back at him. 

“Uh,” He cleared his throat, flipping through the pages and staring at the way the letters braided into each other, just like on the napkins Tony read sweet nothings form every morning. He looked up at the top of the paper, where next to the printed “Name” it read in pretty, oh-so-pretty cursive, “Captain Steven Rogers.”

☕.

Steve woke up from a dull migraine that he had been nursing for the past week or so. He sighed, taking a large sip of the lukewarm water from the bottle he had discarded in his room a few days ago. Everyone was always talking about how important drinking water is nowadays, but Steve was never really a fan of health schticks anyway. As he made his way to the kitchen, he asked his own brain not for the first time this week why it wasn’t healed by the oh-so-magical properties of the oh-so-magical serum. A look at the digital clock in the elevator told him it was 7am on a Sunday, and he tried to remember what time it was last night when Tony excused himself to his bedroom from movie night, claiming that he was too exhausted for thrillers that evening. 

Stepping into the kitchen, however, he was met with a sleepy Tony in an oversized gray Led Zepellin hoodie and plaid pajama pants, sitting Indian Style in the breakfast nook with an Iron Man mug in his hands, taking small sips from it and the smell of coffee traveling from the coffeemaker on the kitchen counter to Steve. 

Oh. He felt the pang of disappointment in his chest at the realization that Tony woke up earlier than him. This week really didn’t like Steve much, did it? 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Tony broke the silence and Steve felt some of the disappointment dissipating at the raspy sleep-deprived timbre of Tony’s voice, “I made coffee,” he nodded over to the island that Steve was standing in front of, “I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Why would I ―” Steve cut himself off when his eyes landed on the Captain America mug from the Avengers mugs set that Clint thought was the perfect $15 Christmas gift for the people that literally risked their lives by his side on day-by-day bases. Steve felt his heart skip a beat and he held his breath as he reached out and pulled the mug towards him. Under it, of course, there was a napkin with a blocky print scribbled over it. 

“You’re not as slick as you think you are, Mr. Rogers.

Busy tonight?” 

[dartmoorsfinest]

Josh Widdicombe: ‘I can’t even go to the toilet without taking my phone with me’ (The Telegraph, 27.9.21)

From puppets to politicians’ trousers, the comedian on the good, bad and ugly aspects of his life.

Josh Widdicombe, 38, is a comedian and presenter best known for his appearances on The Last Leg and Mock the Week, as well as his BBC Three sitcom Josh. He won the first series of Taskmaster in 2015 and the show’s first Champion of Champions special in 2017. He is married to Rose Hanson, a television producer. They have two children.

My Best...... joke:

When I was on Taskmaster a few years ago, one of the tasks was to buy Greg Davies a present. I got his name tattooed on my foot. That is not witty or clever, but 90 per cent of what people come up and ask me about is that, rather than all the comedy I’ve written. You don’t need to write jokes, it turns out people just want you to get a tattoo on your foot.

...the best comedian in the world:

Growing up, I was just totally obsessed with Frank Skinner, who I still think has the quickest wit and best comic mind of anyone I’ve met or worked with. Everything he says is on a different level. That’s the best thing about my job, working with childhood heroes like Frank.

...the best day of my career: This has to be when my agent Flo asked to sign me in 2010. It meant I could quit my job as a very low level sub editor on The Guardian website and become a professional comedian. I once got both football scores the wrong way round on the main page of the website; there were fundamental issues with my ability in the job.A friend gave me the brilliant tip that you should go with the agent that has the worst office because they’re the ones who won’t waste your money. And at this time they were based in the basement of the house of the guy who owns the agency. They took me to a greasy spoon café, even though they represented Michael McIntyre and Lee Evans. I thought, these guys are the guys for me.

...the best thing about my wife:

That her mother invented Zippy. I don’t even like my wife. It’s the only reason I’m with her. It’s such a mad thing to have invented because it’s such a cultural touchstone.

...the best thing about being a parent:

Is the day-to-day little things your child will say that are totally normal but totally melt your heart. When your child uses an adult turn of phrase like “of course” instead of “yes”. That’s the best bit for me, for some reason.

...the worst thing about my children:

Is the sleep. I can’t believe how boring I am on the subject of sleep. You can blast through the day but that period at night when you wake up for the third time and it’s 3am and you want it to be morning. I’ve had enough of these awful nights.

...the worst celebrity encounter:

I met Steve Coogan in the gym once and my voice went because I was so star-struck. Luckily it just looked like I was puffed out. That was a bonus.

  ...my worst habit:

Is that I’m somehow more late now for Zoom meetings than I was for normal meetings. It looks so much worse. It’s because at 9.53am I’ll think I’ll go for a shower now. This new at-home life is really bad for me. I miss going to Pret for lunch; the cheese-and-pickle sandwich in the long sourdough thing. Oh, the thrill I have for the brie-and-cranberry Christmas one.

...my worst TV appearance:

Was This Week in Politics with Andrew Neil. It was so far ahead of every other show disaster I’ve ever had. The producers said: “OK, so you’re going to talk about accents and how they affect people in the workplace.” And I was like: “Well I’ve got nothing on that.” I didn’t say that because I’m really polite. So I did a bit about Michael Portillo going to public school, which he didn’t, and he made that very clear. He destroyed me, and he was well within his rights. I was out of my depth, It was awful. I can’t even watch his trains programmes anymore. Every time I see red trousers the nightmares come flooding back.

...the worst thing about modern life:

Is my addiction to my mobile phone. I can’t even go to the toilet without taking it with me. It’s the first thing I do when I sit down, I take my phone out and mindlessly scroll. I look at the BBC website, Instagram, refresh emails, Whatsapp, and then back to the BBC… it’s mind numbing and it annoys me that I don’t read books as much as I used to.

...the absolute worst:

Has to be Twitter. I don’t think anyone has ever felt better after looking at Twitter than before they started. Something will happen like Simone Biles pulling out of the gymnastics and you see people saying in the media: “This is going to be a big debate on Twitter!” And you think, “God, is this what it’s come to?” Twitter is a really negative, divisive medium. I really should come off it, but apparently according to my agent, people need to know when I’m on tour.

Interview by Boudicca Fox-Leonard [SOURCE / READ]

[florenceandthemachine]

happy chapter! yes I know I missed last week and I've updated the chapter count to reflect. my state is cold as fuck and also somehow on fire and the Big Sad hit me real hard so I had to take a weekend to be dead. love you all.

Chapters: 3/4 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)

”Alright, Eddie.”

No, it was not alright. It was not alright at all.

“I’m starting to worry about you.”

Eddie felt his bed dip as Buck sat beside him, groaning in response, rolling over in a desperate attempt to hide his shame.

“Chris is about ready to call in for a rope rescue, and you’re still not out of bed. I may not understand why you’re meeting your parents for lunch today, but you are, so get up.”And therein lied his shame. Eddie didn’t need a reminder. His parents had spent all of ten minutes in his living room the night prior—annoyingly vague about why they were there in the first place, insisting that even though they were just ‘passing through’ they still wanted to spend some time with their grandson.

Not their son. Just their grandson. Which was totally fine and didn’t bother Eddie at all.

Eddie had spent every one of those ten minutes clenching his teeth so hard he thought he would pop a crown, but ultimately agreed to their request (maybe a little quicker than he would have liked, but he had done less for more when it came to making sure Chris stayed in bed). As bad as that was, though, he wasn’t sure what was worse—the fact that he was so hesitant to spend some time with his parents, or the fact that the moment they left, all he felt was guilt.

He knew that he wasn’t the crazy one here; but even then, it was hard to ignore how it sounded, feeling so unhappy—so hesitant—to spend time with his own parents. He knew exactly how it looked for him, because what kind of son was chomping at the bit to rip his own parents head off, just for wanting to spend some time with their family?

It should have been a perfectly reasonable request. It should have been something Eddie was happy to do. It should not have been something that set Eddie’s teeth on edge, that tripped up his sixth sense like no other, the soldier's sense that he had developed in Afghanistan buzzing in the base of his skull like a beehive. It felt like something was about to go incredibly wrong, and it felt fucking disgusting to have that reaction triggered by his own parents, but he couldn’t deny that he was afraid history would repeat itself.

Maybe he really was a garbage person.

The guilt only got worse, surprise surprise, after they left and Eddie discovered Buck standing in the kitchen, where Eddie had told him to stay. He had all but forgotten about Buck. How could he forget an entire person?

Garbage person, strike two.

Eddie wound himself in his blanket even tighter, guilt and shame doing little to motivate him on getting out of bed, but his silence was short lived as his blanket burst into flames just long enough for him to yelp and bolt upright before it completely disintegrated. “You—that’s not—you cheater!”

Buck just laughed, the bastard, idly examining the nails on one hand as he shoved Eddie out of bed with the other. “I’m a demon, you dolt. Of course I cheated. Now,” he started, pushing Eddie upright and all but herding him toward the closet, “why don’t you get dressed and tell me what’s really going on?”

Eddie felt a lump sink into his stomach as he stood up, a harsh breath coming out of his nose as he yanked a pair of pants off of a hanger.

“I’m scared, Buck.”

Either out of shock or respect, Buck remained silent, and Eddie could only spare a glance over his shoulder before he ducked his head, dressing haphazardly. “The last time I saw my parents they tried to... to take him. They were trying to take him from me, and my response was to literally pack Chris up and move across the country. They didn’t reach out for years—it’s been years, Buck—not when Abuela broke her hip, not when Chris changed schools, not when Shannon died. A year goes by, and nothing. And then they send a card, and then I meet you, and now they’re just... here again. And I think they’re going to try again, I think they’re going to—“

Eddie looked down at his hands as he felt the fabric of the shirt he was holding tear beneath his fingertips, staring at the hole, like he couldn’t believe he had just worried a hole through it. He looked up to Buck, guilt and misery written on his face as he tossed the garment aside, hiding his face in his hands as he rubbed at his eyes, dragging his hands down his face shortly after.

“You are going to lunch and I’ll be nearby, but Eddie, listen.” Eddie didn’t realize he was spiraling until Buck stepped forward, grabbing his hands and giving a firm squeeze as he shook his head. When Eddie looked up again, all he could see was Buck—eyes glowing, mouth set, teeth maybe just a little sharper than they were a moment before. “I will never, ever let them—or anyone else—take him from you. Ever.”

--

“…and Mark says that Washington has one of the biggest volcanoes, but I don’t think that’s true. Ms. Flores and Mr. Beeman says that Mars has volcanoes too, even bigger than any of the ones we have here on Earth!”

“I’m sure it does, buddy. Maybe that’s why it’s the red planet? All the magma?”

“No, Dad, the magma is underground, when the volcano erupts it turns into—hey!” Eddie had a smile on his face as he reached over to steal one of Chris’ fries, grinning as his kid squawked, pushing his dads’ hand away playfully. Their afternoon together had started easy enough; Chris had stolen the show easily, directing the conversation through himself in that effortless way kids managed to do, talking about his school, his friends, his day to day. To this day, Eddie would never understand how this kid had him wrapped around his finger so easily—all it took was the bat of an eye for Eddie to swing through the drive through on the way to the park, and suddenly he was meeting his parents at a picnic table near the playground with arms full of chicken tenders and fries.

Not a great look. Whatever.

Chris had been every bit as ecstatic to see his grandparents as Eddie knew (feared?) he would be, propelling himself forward at a speed that would have made Eddie panic had Buck not spent some significant time over the past few months working on Chris’ physical therapy.

He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse, how easily it was to use his son as a distraction from whatever nightmarish scenario his parents wanted to bring up, but even that grateful moment was cut short as his father chuckled, reaching forward to tousle Chris’ hair playfully.

“Mark, Flores, Beeman, I can’t even keep up anymore kiddo. Sounds like you’ve had a busy third grade in your new scho—“

“Fourth grade, dad.”

“What?”

“Fourth grade, Dad. Chris is in fourth grade.”

Eddie regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. As good as it felt to even attempt to put his father in his place, he could feel the exact moment that both of his parents swiveled their laser-like attention to him. They were smiling, sure, but Eddie felt like he was back to being a kid again, waiting for the inevitable slip up that would get him grounded.

“Fourth grade, right.” Eddie smiled tensely as his father nodded, gesturing between he and his son. “Of course, we would know that if you bothered to call once in a while. We don’t hear from you on Christmas, birthdays, nothing.

“You know, you can always call us too, not send some letter on the anniversary of my wife’s death like a complete—”

“If we didn’t hear from Pepa regularly, how would we know that you and Chris were even alive?”

“Dad—“

“But we’re doing good.”

Eddie felt his jaw click shut as Chris spoke, his heart swelling with pride as both of his parents turned their gaze again. His mother at least had the decency to look mildly guilty—his father, no such luck.

“Of course you are, kiddo. We’re just trying to make sure that your dad has enough help. There’s been a lot of big changes since you both left Texas—two new schools, new grades, new teachers, your father’s new job, and—“

The death of Chris’ mother, Eddie’s mind provided, angry once again that Shannon was being so disregarded by people who were supposed to be her family.

“Yeah, but we’re still doing good.” Chris said, not looking up from the fries he was dunking into ketchup, smearing only a little bit on his upper lip as he shoved the handful into his mouth. “Dad says that sometimes the hard things make us stronger, but things aren’t even that hard. And Buck says that I have a lot of, um. Initiative! And they both say I’m perfect, so that’s good.”

Eddie didn’t hesitate. He didn’t freeze as his parents turned back over to him, and he certainly didn’t feel his heart sink into his stomach. He just… was trying to un-swallow his tongue, was all. Buck had been the one topic that they had somehow danced around, and Eddie wasn’t sure if he should have been thankful or not that Chris ripped that bandaid off.

He was afraid, to be honest, of that particular aspect of their new lives coming to light—there were few wounds that Eddie’s parents loved rubbing salt in more than his parenting and his financial situation, and suggesting that he had private help for Chris? That was certainly something that hit both of their favorite topics.

“Buck?”

Even if, you know, he had sold his soul instead of provided a monthly stipend.

“Who is Buck?”

“Buck’s great!” Eddie felt himself finally breathe as Chris picked up the slack, his cheerful demeanor impervious to the doom and gloom swarming around both of his grandparents right now. “He’s really smart, and he’s super nice. Plus he makes Dad laugh, which is also nice. And he taught me how to make cootie-catchers! Did you know that they can see into the future?”

Eddie wasn’t panicking. He definitely wasn’t panicking. He definitely wasn’t looking between his mother and his father, trying desperately to come up with something, some excuse, some way to explain the strange name that called Chris perfect and made him laugh.

...Buck really did know how to make him laugh, though. And he did love Chris, that much was clear. And those two thoughts were the only things buzzing around in his head when he opened his fat mouth.

“Edmundo, who is—“

“Buck is my boyfriend.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the moment afterward—his father turned a lovely complexion of purple and red while his mother looked like she had literally seen a ghost, which, hey! Not that far off from the truth. Eddie wasn’t sure if he was just in shock, or if he was having a stroke, or what, but he suddenly felt heavy, grounded for the first time all day, firmly planted in the moment.

So, Eddie decided that Buck was, as of ten seconds ago, his boyfriend. It… made sense, in a way. Fuck, they were basically co-parenting his kid. Chris absolutely adored Buck. And Eddie knew they were sexually and romantically compatible, hell, he knew Buck intimately from his teeth right down to—

“Buck is your what—”

“Buck!”

Eddie was getting very, very tired of being caught by surprise, so it was actually exhausting to have yet another rug pulled out from under him. He turned his head as Chris called out and almost fell out of his seat, seeing who else but the demon in question striding toward them, smiling like the sun,

Honestly, at this point, Eddie should have expected yet another whiplash, but nothing could have prepared him to turn around and see Buck, striding toward him with a big smile on his face, wearing what Eddie could only describe as a “meet the parents” outfit.

If there was another reason as to why Buck would be wearing a sweater vest in California, Eddie would love to hear it.

At the very least, he wasn’t the only one who was shocked. His parents had similar slack jawed looks on their faces as Chris raced toward Buck, who easily wrapped Chris in a huge hug with a “Hey, Superman!” before setting Chris on his hip easily.

Eddie didn’t realize that he was up until he was already moving, trying to think of how he could explain this, but Buck was quick on the draw—keeping Chris balanced in one arm, he drew Eddie in easily with the other, kissing his cheek, murmuring against his skin easily.

“Thought you could use some backup from your boyfriend.”

...oh, right. Demon. Probably heard the whole thing. Cool, that was definitely a cool thing and not embarrassing at all. Eddie felt his own hand fall into Buck’s as they started to walk back toward his parents, a weight writhing in his stomach, only partially subdued by the warmth burning pleasantly through his bones from the small contact he shared with Buck, looking over as Buck set Chris back down, grinning at the giggling ten year old like he wanted nothing more out of this life.

“Mom, Dad, this is Buck. Buck, these are my parents.” Eddie was half tempted to let the moment stew in a silent awkwardness before starting introductions, but Buck spoke up before he could do anything, extending his now-free hand to Eddie’s father first. “Evan Buckley, Eddie’s told me a lot about you. Glad to meet you both.”

Huh. Eddie never thought to even ask if Buck had a first and last name. He always thought it was just, ‘Buck’.

It was comforting for him to see the good, Catholic guilt push both of his parents to accept the greeting with an incredibly pained smile and a handshake of their own, as much as he knew they both wanted to pretend he wasn’t there.

“So! Evan.” His mother started, always the diplomat. “What do you do?”

--

“I’ve known I was bisexual from, like, sophomore year. I brought boyfriends home in highschool! Why is this so hard for you to wrap your head around?”

Long since abandoning the idea of civility, Eddie’s voice was tired, watching as Buck pushed Chris on the swingset across the park from their little picnic bench. Chris had all but dragged Buck over there, subconsciously (or maybe consciously, though Eddie hated thinking of that) feeling when Eddie needed some time to yell at his parents.

Which he definitely, definitely wanted to do. Because Buck was a fucking delight, he answered every question perfectly, he complimented, he flattered, he smiled, and his parents had given him absolutely nothing back.

Now, he was actually finding himself… jealous. Because he would have sold his fucking left leg to just be over there, with his kid and his… Buck, instead of here, with the firing squad. Watching the two of them together was nice, though, definitely a memory he would treasure later—right now, it was providing just enough serotonin to keep him from jumping off a bridge.

“Because you’re not like that, not really!” His mother’s voice was pleading where his fathers had been firm, but Eddie couldn’t really tell the difference between the two when they were both parroting each other. “Eddito, you can’t expect us to believe this is just... happening now. In highschool, that was one thing. I am your mother, we are your parents. No one knows you better than we do!”

Eddie threw his hands into the air, turning it into a wave at the last moment when Chris looked over, trying to keep his face relatively neutral. “Mom, you don’t know the first thing about me, apparently, but I’m starting to think that might go both ways. Maybe I don’t know the two of you, either. For starters, I had no idea my parents were so fucking mean.”

The innocent look his father shot back at him made him want to puke. “Eddie, I can’t help it if pointing out the truth seems a little mean to you. That woman leaves you—”

“That woman was my wife, and she died, next topic.”

“—leaves you,” his father repeated, ignoring what Eddie had said yet again, “and now I’m supposed to believe that you, what. Decided that instead of finding someone who could give Chris what he needs, you just looked for the first man waving a rainbow flag and that was that?”

“Dad, I swear to God, if you insult Buck again we’re done for the day.”

If Eddie was surprised by his own assertiveness, he was alone in that—his father wasted no time in scoffing, shaking his head.

“I have every right to criticize someone spending that much time with my grandson, Edmundo. When was the last time you and Chris went to service? Because if it got around that you were hanging around with someone like that—"

Honestly, there was a certain level of irony here that Eddie had to appreciate. His conservative, religious parents didn’t like his boyfriend (and, wait, how had Eddie attached Buck to that word so easily?)—not because he was a literal demon from Hell, which would have been a perfectly reasonable thing for two good, God fearing Christians to dislike, but because he was a man.

“Hey, Chris, we gotta get going! Come say bye, buddie!”

All that aside, the stunned silence that followed as his father struggled to find his voice was sweet, so sweet, even if it was incredibly short lived.

“Really, Eddie? One little disagreement and you’re just going to walk away? We don’t see Chris for two years, and the first time we visit is when you decide to—”

“Chris is going to come over and say goodbye.” Eddie interrupted, voice dangerously low as he looked up to where Buck was helping him down from the jungle gym. “If you try and play him against me with this, you will lose. If you try to play him against Buck, you will lose and I will laugh at you. But we are going home now, and if you give him any grief about that, if you try to make him feel bad that you don’t come up to visit more often, if you do anything that puts a frown on his face, that’s it. You will never see him again. Ever. And I’ve already kept one promise to you once in the past five minutes, you wanna push for two?”

Eddie wasn’t sure if he was burning that bridge or crossing it, but he was all smiles when Buck and Chris rejoined them, easily slotting himself against Buck’s side as his mother and father each hugged and kissed Chris’ head. Eddie may have let his eagle eye slide a little bit—he could tell my Chris’ giggling protests that they weren’t saying anything uncouth, and even if they were, he knew Buck would put a stop to it before anything else.

Waiting until his mother released Chris, Eddie leaned and kissed Buck on the cheek, tilting his head back to the truck. “Chris, you wanna go with Buck and get buckled in? I’m gonna walk your grandparents to their car.”

Chris took off happily with Buck in tow, and Eddie allowed himself a moment to feel all warm inside watching Buck take Chris’ hand happily as they walked away before he had to turn and face his parents once more. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not that his mother was first to speak, pleading with him while his father unlocked and started their car. “You don’t need to be so sneaky to talk to us, Eddito. You know your father and I just worry.”

“If you want to talk sneaky, let’s talk about your spontaneous road trip to Los Angeles. Have you talked to Abuela? Or Pepa? Because Buck’s met them both, and they both love him. Have you even thought about visiting with them while you’re out here?” Eddie asked, the look on her face answer enough. Eddie sighed, shaking his head as he turned to his father, waiting to see what kind of explanation he would try and bury this in. “You dragged Mom a thousand miles just to interrogate me but you won’t even see the rest of the family?”

He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as his mother shut the door to the passengers seat of the car, and Eddie found himself wishing he could just tune this entire topic out as easily as she seemed to when his father met this gaze again.

“I am just trying to get you to do what is right for Chris.”

“That’s just it! I am what’s best for Chris, and I don’t understand why you can’t accept that. He’s my kid, mine, and if you can’t trust me to do what’s best for him,” Eddie paused, “then I don’t know what I can do to get that across.”

He shook his head as he started to walk back to his car. He had really, really hoped that would be the end of it, but he was well aware that would require luck, which he did not have, his father's voice calling after him making that painfully clear.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Eddie. When your little… mistake comes crashing down, we will be the only ones here for Chris! You can’t just turn your back on family!” Eddie felt his hackles rise as he walked away, ears ringing as he dug his heel into the dirt and looked over his shoulder.

“You turned your back on us—on me—a long time ago.” Eddie’s voice was low as he opened his door, slumping into the driver seat like a string had been cut, hands shaking as he started the truck.

--

“What was your family like?”

Eddie’s voice was soft from his place against Buck’s side, tucked up under one of Buck’s arms, the warmth from the demon eliminating any need for a blanket.

Eddie had made it exactly three blocks (just long enough to be out of view of his parents) before Buck had demanded he pull the car over so they could switch. He was more than happy to give up any responsibility, sliding into the back seat beside his kid, letting himself be completely engrossed in whatever Chris was listening to for the rest of the ride home.

Buck had been the one who drove them home, made dinner, entertained Chris while Eddie showered. Buck was the one who helped with everything along the way just like he always did. And now Buck was literally, literally anchoring him into reality, a comforting weight along Eddie’s side.

He couldn’t tell what Marvel movie was on—honestly, he had kind of stopped caring about any of them after Black Panther—but they were still Chris’ favorite, and he was sure that Chris would have been livid at them for talking if he hadn’t fallen asleep in the first five minutes of the movie. He wanted to save the moment like a snapshot forever; Chris’ head against Buck’s thigh, sprawled out over the both of their laps, his soft snores doing little to mask Eddie’s question (or Buck’s snort in return). “Eddie, my parents were like... completely crazy. Yours are getting up there, but mine were insane. My mom...” Buck shut his mouth as Chris shifted, waiting until he was settled to resume.

“My mom is the reason I got into this position in the first place.”

Eddie felt his face fall as Buck spoke, repositioning himself to sit up a little straighter beside Buck, eyes trained to the demons’ face. Buck was smiling, a sense of bitter irony on his face as he pushed some hair from Chris’ forehead. “When my dad died, my mom... didn’t take it well. She kind of fell off the deep end. Maddie was lucky, she got out before the shit hit the fan. Anyway, my mom and I tried everything—therapy, grief counseling, the power of prayer—seriously.” Buck said, a smile on his face as Eddie laughed, shoulders shaking.

“You’re such an ass.” Buck said, but he was smiling as well, shaking his head. “Anyway, when that didn’t work, my mom tried the other route. She was, like, off the deep end at that point. Talismans, ouija boards, drugging herself up to talk to the dead. I probably should have turned around when I came home to find a pentagram painted on the floor, but.”

Buck shrugged like this was the easiest thing in the world to announce, but Eddie had long since stopped laughing, his jaw a little slack. “Oh, Buck...” He hated how weak his voice sounded, but Buck brushed it off, continuing on.

“No big deal. She sucked at Latin, turns out. I got these devilishly good looks, and she got torn apart by hellfire.” Eddie choked on a laugh as Buck beamed at him, because of course he would be making a pun at a time like this. He stifled the rest of his laugh as Buck squeezed him a little tighter, shaking his head as Chris let out another little snore.

It was easy enough to maneuver Chris into his arms, carrying him to his bedroom, though he certainly wasn’t about to object to Buck’s abject closeness, less than a half step behind Eddie as he put Chris to bed. It wasn’t until he stood to leave did he actually see the look on Buck’s face as he tousled Chris’ hair and said goodnight; it was incredibly soft, dopey even, and the only reason Eddie could make that comparison is because Hen had told him plenty of times that was the same way he looked at Chris.

He just never thought he would see that look on someone else.

Eddie kept his voice low as he closed Chris’ door, starting the walk back to his own room slowly, swaying easily in step beside Buck as he scratched at his head. “Do you remember, when we met, you told me—“

“How incredibly hot you were, how good you were with your tongue, how—“

“Jesus, Buck, no, you fucking pervert. I was going to say, you told me that I wasn’t being normal about this.” Eddie said, and Buck hummed, his hand idly reaching out toward Eddie’s. “What are most of your contracts like?”

Buck snorted as he tugged Eddie into the bedroom, turning off the television, the lights, even locking the front door with a wave of his hand. “I’ve never fucked another contract, if that’s what you’re asking.” he started, pulling the sheets down with another wave and a laugh as Eddie threw his shirt at Buck’s head. “God, Eddie, they’re fucking assholes. Everyone’s power hungry, or money hungry, or just stupid as fuck, seriously. In like, a whole decade, I’ve never had anyone make a contract for someone else before. But you…”

Eddie looked up as Buck pulled him closer again, planting a kiss on his lips. Part of Eddie wanted to shy away, wanted to say the boyfriend thing had all but been an act, but he had given up on that about thirty seconds after Buck told his father to fuck off.

“Even when you were drunk, you only cared about what was best for your son. That’s why it was so easy for me to make a contract with you. Seeing how good of a person you were, how much you loved your kid? No question.”

Buck’s voice had dropped down low as he sunk into the bed, making grabby hands at Eddie until he followed suit, finding himself fitting perfectly in the crook of Buck’s shoulder, resolutely not thinking about the flat plain of muscle beneath his hand as he wrapped an arm around Buck’s midsection. Eddie felt his eyes wander across Buck’s face, his lips, the smooth line of his neck to the little gem on his necklace. “You really think I’m a good father?”

“Eddie, come on.”

When he looked back up at Buck’s face, Eddie felt a spark burn through his spine, meeting Buck’s glowing eyes for the third time in three months and the second time that day. Eddie wasn’t sure who moved (okay, he was definitely the one who had moved) but the kiss was soft, a barely there brush of lips, a pressure that set Eddie’s lips on fire.

“You’re amazing.”

[theliterateape]

Wonder Woman 1984 Couldn’t Save the Story

By David Himmel

I’ve been looking forward to the sequel to 2017’s Wonder Woman since the film ended with Wonder Woman herself leaping from the top of a building and soaring into the credits. So when it was announced that Wonder Woman 1984 was going to be available on HBO Max Christmas Day, I went to bed each night with visions of indestructible bracelets dancing in my head.

Then it finally arrived. Christmas. WW84. 

My wife and I settled into the couch with a bucket of Cherry Coke, a cornucopia of candy, and two obnoxious bowls of fresh popped popcorn soaked in butter. It was the movie-going experience I had been missing this year.

I love Wonder Woman. I didn’t grow up on the source material. I grew up on Lynda Carter. Reruns of the campy Wonder Woman TV show, which originally ran from 1975–1979 were a favorite of mine as a little kid. Not only was it an entertaining show for a preschooler in the eighties with the jumping and bullet-blocking and running, but I was also in love with Lynda Carter both as Diana Prince and Wonder Woman. 

You see—sounding all Freudian alarms—my mother is a brunette and, from what I could tell at that young age, she could do anything and everything, so I grew up likening my mom to the Amazonian goddess. I also thought any pretty lady with brown hair was my mom including the woman on the Sun-Maid raisins box. (Despite my mother being a beauty queen and model—just like Lynda Carter—the real Sun-Maid Girl died at age 90 two months before I turned four.) From my vantage point, my mom was completely capable of saving the day and harvesting yummy raisins. A true wonder woman. 

I wasn’t a big reader of the Wonder Woman comics. Blame that on my time as a boy in 1984. Wonder Woman comics didn’t make their way to me and by the time I was old enough to choose my own reads, I was too deep into graphic novels about the Vietnam War, X-Men comics, and other Marvel titles. But I always knew Diana’s story and powers, and recognized her as one of the most powerful characters to grace the pages of comic books.

Settled into the couch, we hit play and HBO Max glowed to life to give me the Christmas gift I’d been waiting months for.

The opening scene set the tone. A thrilling action scene showcasing the abilities of Diana’s people back on Themyscira. It dropped a few hints of what challenges Diana/Wonder Woman might face and the lessons she will learn or be reminded of. Good opening. And then the film fell apart and Christmas was ruined.

Nah, Christmas was fine, but Wonder Woman 1984 was a disappointment. And not as much for me as for Diana and Wonder Woman. And for actor Gal Gadot. She was robbed of an interesting story. There is no character development in WW84 for our hero. Diana is in the exact same place as she was at the end of the first film. She picks up a few new abilities along the way, but one, like flying in an invisible jet felt like director/writer/producer Patty Jenkins was force feeding me a MacGuffin only to throw it away after I agreed to swallow it. Flight is a big thing in this film but Wonder Woman learning to master it seemed wasteful as I was convinced she was learning to fly based on the way the first film ended. That’s on me.

When we left Wonder Woman in the first film, she was heartbroken for Steve Trevor (Chris Pine). When we meet her again in 1984, some seventy years after his death, she still pines for him. (See what I did there?) By the end, she’s the same. Closed off, unwilling or unable to open herself up to people, most notably to people who could love her and she could love in return. This, despite that Steve tells her that’s a stupid thing to do—remain closed off. When he comes back to life through a wish, he is filled with a zest for life, a chance to experience something again. Pine plays Steve with an almost childlike wonder and it’s fun to watch.

They missed an incredible opportunity to build an interesting story tying in time, the struggle and pain of being ageless—timeless. Maybe that’s how Steve comes back. He exists in a tear in time. What is the hardship of a god living among men? Not her challenging duty but her struggle.

And why 1984? For the fashion jokes? The nukes? Missed opportunity there. Especially since the year is in the title.

Kristin Wiig is great. She’s surprising as she anchors her Ghostbusters (2016) character into Barbara Minerva/Cheetah. But I wanted more form her relationship with Diana. When Barbara wishes to be like Diana, “Sexy, cool… special,” there’s a chance for her to also face the backlash of being an ageless goddess. That opportunity was dampened when Barbara cartoonishly chooses to become a full baddy. But you can’t blame Barbara, she was written that way.

Everything was written as a MacGuffin. One little thing to get us to the big moment with the big baddy—a Donald Trump-ish huckster played by Pedro Pascal. Pascal as Max Lord at first is a slimey but sympathetic character. That quickly devolves into him being a super-duper bad guy bent on world domination that overcorrects in heightening the stakes. The manner in which he goes about dominating the world is trite but also is based on a lazy Orwellian approach to what technology would be like in 1984. It gives the sense that the film was written during Lynda Carter’s heyday where 1984 still seemed futuristic.

There’s so much opportunity squandered. Diana/Wonder Woman is an ageless goddess with a lonely heart and incredible powers. How does one live like that? In the first film, Diana is learning what it means to be human. This film could have had her learning what it means to be a god among humans. Instead, the character is a pawn. She’s not driven by anything. And that’s what gets me.

Diana could be relatable. Make her the troubled messiah. She lives among us so long, she longs or struggles to be like us. And maybe losing her power—the unknown risk she takes when Steve comes back—is attractive to her so she can live and love. And if they had to bring back Chris Cline, the could have dipped into the mystique and magic of Diana’s world. Something more than a silly wish. Something more interesting that pushes Diana to face new internal struggles while working to defeat the external forces of evil.

The film sets itself up as movie that’ll deal with time. There’s a date in the title. But why 1984? For the nukes? For the broadcast Max Lord needs to tap into? For the fanny pack jokes? Jenkins and Co. could have given the theme a little more oompf by leaning into their own ideas of time and address the hardships a an ageless, nearly all powerful goddess faces. Instead, we get a joke about modern public art being trash and a WWI watch coming to life because… because the ghost of the man who owned it has come back from the beyond. Two completely unrelated things. But they didn’t have to be.

The film takes its time with the wrong beats. There are many big moments, often in the middle of the action, where Wonder Woman’s face is the focus. The only takeaway from these slowed down moments of intensity are for the sake of empowerment. And, okay, fine. That’s cool. I get it. Wonder Woman is empowering. The movie, however, is not empowering. It’s a vehicle that reduces Wonder Woman to a physically strong woman who does not develop as an individual. She’s the most dimensional inspiring cinematic female character since the offensive Captain Marvel.

Time proves to be a major influencer in the film in the way it’s wasted. When they have to fly to Cairo, they do so by stealing a jet that Diana has access to thanks to her job at the museum, and allegedly will face no consequences for hoarking a fighter jet for personal reasons. Regardless… They have to get from Washington D.C. to Cairo, a trip of just over 5,000 nautical miles. A modern Boeing 747 can fly 8,255 nautical miles on a full tank of gas. A fighter jet with a smaller tank would likely need every last drop and the wind at their backs the entire time to make the tip without refueling or plummeting into the ocean. Instead of being concerned with that, Steve and Diana choose that time to have their romantic scene. Flips and tricks and dawdling through a Fourth of July fireworks show. And why was Steve surprised by the fireworks and it being July 4th? He just arrived in a new body the day before. He certainly checked the date on a newspaper or heard something on the radio or a TV. And the Fourth of July was already a holiday before he was killed in World War I.

These gripes would be nitpicking if they weren’t so easily remedied by giving the main character an actual story arc.

Wonder Woman 1984 was a fine superhero movie. Far from the best (Captain America: Civil War). Better than the worst (Justice League). It had its share of fun action moments, but even in an action film, the action must be secondary to the story.

After watching the film, we turned on the old TV show. There’s not much character development there either. But it’s a 1970s network television procedural. It’s meant to be campy. And it was more than enough.

Following the three-hour Lynda Carter bender, I realized that you could totally edit scenes in WW84 to make a trailer about a woman who takes care of, then falls in love with, a mentally handicapped man. And that would be a great story to tell. Wonder Woman with Hollywood blockbuster money behind her deserves something interesting.

[toughbookie]

7 Books in 7 Days

I Stumbled across a few YouTube videos about this “7 Books in 7 Days” challenge going on on the internet.

I got curious and after absolutely no research or further preparation, I decided to do that as well; I would have read seven books in a week.

Aaaaand here’s pretty much how it went.

DAY 1: The book I couldn’t find in English

Title: Storia di una balena bianca raccontata da lei stessa

Author: Luis Sepúlveda

Pages: 107

Rate: 5/5

Having started in the early evening, I had to pick a book that was short enough for me to finish on the same day. The choice fell on this tiny masterpiece by Sepúlveda, whose literature I wasn’t familiar with (boy, will that change during this reading challenge) aside from The Story of a Seagull and the Cat Who Taught Her to Fly, read years and years and year and years ago.

What I thought I was going forward was a nice, cute little novel.

I.

Was.

Wrong.

This actually kind of broke me.

Based on the story of Moby Dick - which in turn is based on the true story of the Essex, a whaler that left the island of Nantucket in 1819 only to be destroyed by the giant sperm whale the crew was after to acquire the oil to power lamps… Look, life sucked before we got electricity - this book is narrated by the giant white whale in the flesh. As you might have guessed by now, we’re not talking about the happiest story ever.

What starts as an observation from the young whale’s eyes of the resourcefulness and curiosity of mankind, quickly transforms into a condemnation of its cruelty and disrespect for nature.

Beautifully written, I definitely recommend this book to anyone who loves angst and can speak Italian or Spanish (I couldn’t find an English version).

I really had a good time with it. And also a good cry. I’m fragile.

DAY 2: The book about a murder

Title: The body in the library

Author: Agatha Christie

Pages: 215

Rate: 4/5

For the second day of this challenge, I’ve decided to throw myself into a novel featuring Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple.

In this crime novel, the body of a young woman is found in the library of Mr. and Mrs. Bantry’s house. The problem: nobody knows this girl or how she got in there. It’s going to be up to the police and, naturally, to Miss Marple, to find the truth.

I have discovered Agatha Christie only recently but it’s undeniable that she deserves all my love. It’s been fun to read this book and develop theories to find out who the murderer was and how and why they acted. It was like piecing a puzzle together. This is my first reading featuring Miss Marple, and I found her quite impressive. Unlike her “colleague”, Hercule Poirot, Miss Marple is not a detective, she’s just people smart, and it’s delightful to follow her around on her adventures.

Unfortunately the finale didn’t satisfy me that much, but it was still pretty good. Definitely recommended.

DAY 3: The long one

Title: The temptation to be happy

Author: Lorenzo Marone

Pages: 268

Rate: 3.5/5

Note: The more I think about this book, the more I feel like it doesn’t fully deserve its 3.5 rating. Consider it as an “almost 4”, please and thank you.

On the third day, I faced the longest book of the ones I had chosen. And, since life happened and I had other things to do around, I risked not finishing it on time (no worries, I managed).

The story is one of a cynical 77 years old widow: Cesare Annunziata. He doesn’t really care much about the people around him, except his daughter and son whom he loves even though of course he doesn’t know how to show it. Up until here, it’s honestly pretty standard and it has its cliches.

Everything changes when Cesare realizes that his new neighbor, Emma, is a victim of domestic abuse and lives in fear of her husband. The old man and the woman form an improbable friendship aaaaand I don’t want to get into spoiler territory, even tho the story is actually quite simple and sometimes predictable.

The best part about this, however, is not the story. The characters are what really brings the book to life, with a perfect balance of goofy and more serious personalities. It’s people we could meet every day, and that’s what really makes it good. Not full of plot twist, but it’s not meant to be.

Reading Lorenzo Marone was a pretty nice way to spend the day.

DAY 4: The other book about the murder

Title: A Caribbean mystery

Author: Agatha Christie

Pages: 230

Rate: 4/5 

Another day, another Agatha Christie’s novel. In this sunny and colorful environment, new murders have happened and new assassins have to be found.

Miss Marple, on holidays in the Caribbean, is having quite a good time, except not much is going on around here. Lucky for her - and honestly, only for her… I mean, good for you that you have a hobby but you should really not enjoy dead people so much - old Major Palgrave is found dead in his room. What looks like a natural death to most is actually a deeper mystery, and it’s up to Miss Marple to dig up the truth and save the day before the assassin strikes again.

Again, making up theories and analyzing the characters is a lot of fun, and I actually found out who the assassin was, which is pretty rare because I’m dumb at mysteries.

At the end of this book I started to feel a bit tired and I got a bit of a headache. I loved reading it, but with work I never really have the time for long, intensive sessions that go on for multiple days in a row.

Still, the pleasure of reading this book made everything more bearable.

 DAY 5: The big fail

Title: Loving sabotage

Author: Amélie Nothomb

Pages: 62 out of 124

Rate: 1/5

God, I hated this book. Pretentious, boring, just bad. It didn’t even seem like there was a plot or the author was talking about anything in particular, just words put down one after the other without any true purpose.

Really felt like a waste of time. It was awful to get though. So I didn’t. Which, given my holiday was over and I had to go back to work, gave me a bit of a time problem.

DAY 5: Sepúlveda strikes back

Title: Patagonia Express

Author: Luis Sepúlveda

Pages: 127

Rate: 5/5

To save the day at the last minute, came Luis Sepúlveda with this short account of his travels in Patagonia.

Starting in Spain and exploring the very edge of the world, this collection is filled with wild characters and hilarious episodes that made me enjoy every single page. 

That is, after getting past that one chapter about lamb castration.

That was a weird one.

I’ve never liked this particular literary genre much, but Luis Sepúlveda gives an incredible description of the places he visited, the people he met and their own stories, which are particularly bizarre and told with incredible talent. It’s a pretty short book, so I don’t want to spoil anything, but you get the drill.

Possibly my favorite book out of this challenge, Patagonia Express is a delightful quick escape from the ordinary.

 DAY 6: Guess who’s back

Title: The old man who read love stories

Author: Luis Sepúlveda

Pages: 135

Rate: 3/5

So, Sepúlveda wasn’t originally supposed to stick around for so long, but here we go again.

As for The old man who read love stories, it’s possibly the book I liked the least from Sepúlveda. Which isn’t saying much, I still like his work a lot.

The story is one of old Antonio José Bolívar Proaño, and guess what: he likes to read love stories. 

That makes two of us, buddy.

He’s also an expert of the forest nearby the small town of El Idilio, and forced to hunt down a female of ocelot, along with a group of men from the town.

Through some flashbacks we also find out the story of his life and how he became to know the forest so well. That’s my favorite part of the novel, by the way.

While the book started well, it felt like it got lost somewhere around the second half, which was supposed to be the important, life-lessons-packed part. You know, the part you don’t want to get lost at.

By the last pages I was almost falling asleep, and thinking back a couple of days later I don’t really remember much of the story as a whole.

In total honesty, a lot of it might have been because it was the sixth book in as many days, and my three brain cells had been up to a lot more than they can usually stand. Plus, long work hours got in the way.

DAY 7: Because it’s Christmas

Title: Hercule Poirot’s Christmas

Author: Agatha Christie

Pages: 209

Rate: 3.5/5

A millionaire asshole. His children and their wives. A nephew and a family friend. A murder on Christmas night.

It would have been offensive to read so much Agatha Christie without any Hercule Poirot, and so here comes my dear detective, ready for the grand finale.

Also, it’s Christmas!! Christmas book!! Christmas spirit!! Quite literally I mean someone got killed -

Hercule Poirot’s Christmas is an interesting novel, full of well done characters and mystery. I had a good time reading it, as I always do with this kind of novels.

But I do have to say - it’s probably just me and other readers liked it fine - the finale really ruined it for me. It feels pulled out of nowhere at the last minute, and even though it was certainly a big surprise, it felt added like a second thought just to make an even bigger plot twist than what could have been.

Aside from that, it’s a good book and given the settings I dare say it’s the perfect reading for when it’s cold outside, maybe snowing, and you’re cuddling under a blanket with a nice warm cup of tea.

Or hot chocolate.

Pick your favorite, I won’t judge.

Conclusions:

So finally we’re at the end of this 7 Books in 7 days Challenge. It was very enjoyable, but also towards the end it got pretty draining and sometimes stressful to keep up with the reading schedule while squeezing into the day everything else life throws at you.

Doing that on a week of holidays instead three days, when I could have focused only on the books, it would have probably gone differently, maybe even attempting to tackle longer novels. But you know, we’re talking about reading 1139 pages in a week, which is not something I thought I was capable of doing.

So overall I’m proud of how I did.

Not sure if I’ll repeat this but I’m glad I’ve done it, at least this once, and I honestly recommend it.

Also I don’t want to read anything else until 2022.

Bookie, signing out.

[cutiecrates]

Cutie Reviews: DokiDoki Nov 19 & YumeTwins Dec 19

If you read my previous post, then you may recall my plans on trying to do a 2-review-per-1-post method. Not sure how frequently this might be but I wanted to give it a try.

Also, on the subject of December boxes I wanted to bring up that I will not be covering the December Tokyo Treat box as I never got it. We have no idea what happened because this was never an issue before. Kind of disappointing because it was anime/manga/video game based, but I was refunded for it at least.

How this will work is that I will be covering one box, then the other. This isn’t a comparison review, but you guys will have to let me know after you read, which one would you prefer?

Yume Prize and Suteki Crate

One heavily features sailor moon and bunnies, while the other seems to be a collab of PomPomPurin and Gudetama. 

This will be my only comparison of the review; I feel like the Suteki Crate’s items fit more in-line with the box theme. Yume Prize fits in the sense its the same characters within the series, but not the theme of the months box. I think both sets are very cute though!

DokiDoki

This months theme is Snow Bunnies

“Get cozy with this months crate. As the weather gets cooler, these adorable bunny themed items are sure to warm your heart.“

Our first items include a decorative pair of chopsticks, featuring a red color scheme with a print of bunnies and sakura around the top.

The other item is a unique and fun-shaped carrot led pencil :D A bashful little bunny can be seen peaking out from the back, isn’t it the cutest? It’s seems like it would be a bit awkward to hold at first, but it has little nudges around the bottom for easy grip and feels pretty natural. It doesn’t feel like hard plastic either, and it felt nice to use. I did a little doodling with it and I liked it. 

Next up is a cute Rilakkuma mug, which was available in 2 styles. Either this one that I got, or there was a design featuring Korilakkuma holding a stuffed toy.

Besides an adorable light pink coloring, the mug features a fun print of white spots and strawberry, and on the side is written “A sweet, lovely strawberry is my favorite“. It’s very cute, I love strawberries so this is perfect for me~

These are our next and last two items, first up is this cute pink bunny plush. It’s part of some series known as Petanto, adorably long animals with hearts, but for this specific box theme everyone got the same bunny. Each one has a ball chain so that you can bring it along with you.

It’s very cute and plush, soft to squeeze. But it does have some noticeable seams along the arms/hands and ears. It’s not that bad though, and they are very cleanly made.

The other item you might recognize if you have been a viewer of the blog before. We got a smaller, circular one just like this in the past, but unlike that one, this one only came in the “pink style“ while the previous one could be pink or blue.

With the previous one, I decided to store my cute lip products I’ve gotten from various boxes, and I loved it! But... the collection made it hard for me to fit the lid on it, so this square-shaped container was more than welcome:

Look at that, I still got more room :D and now I can use the other container to hold something that will actually fit.

~Opinions~

Content - 5 out of 5, nothing super-special or unique, but the quality is clean and very good, no issues or complaints. They were all cute too, I especially love the new Sailor Moon container and the carrot pencil.

Price - 2.5 or 3 out of 5. I really don’t feel like these items should equal 30 dollars, they’re pretty small when you really look at them. The only real item of value in the box is probably the Sailor Moon container, because its such a popular name brand. Rilakkuma is popular too, but its just a mug. The items don’t feel cheap though, I will say that.

Theme: 5 out of 5. The theme doesn’t really scream November to me, but the bunny vibe they were going for is there for sure. I can feel the coziness in a sense; just imagine sipping on a warm drink while writing in your diary or a letter with your pencil, maybe squishing the little plush now and then~

Total Rank: 6.5 out of 10 Cuties. I’m not trying to be picky or anything, I really do like the items we got, I love bunnies x3 but the items themselves just don’t feel very special, we’ve gotten chopsticks, mugs, and plush plenty of times. I like them, but I want a surprise now and then, you know?

Yume Twins

“It’s finally the time of year we always look forward to! What about you? Isn’t snuggling up with your favorite warm blanket, a cup of hot chocolate and a good book next to the twinkling Christmas tree just the best feeling? This mnth we wanted to give you some kawaii friends to snuggle up with in this month’s Sanrio Christmas box! We hope you love it as much as we do!“

Besides the Sanrio goods that could be won in the Yume Prize, the photo contest prize for this month features Hello Kitty items. 

Holiday dining is a lot more fun when you have some cute matching (less-likely to break) items to eat with, so for this month we got an adorable plate featuring a warm, colorful group picture as the decorate for the Holiday~

Paired with it is this big spoon perfect for delicious soup or just large spoonfuls of whatever you may be eating, designed to match the plate as you can see. The spoons featured a couple different characters.

I feel like these spoons must have been popular this year, because I think we got 3 of them? I have a sumikko gurashi, one of Kuromi, and now this one.

Our drinks need to look cute too, and now they can with a handy, Hello Kitty paper straw! This was available in 2 styles and comes in a pack of 30, making it perfect for any sort of party or get-together, or if you just like Hello Kitty and enjoy using straws.

I’ve known about paper straws, but I never used one before so I was quite curious. I kept thinking “won’t it get soggy and fall apart in the drink or something?“ and couldn’t see it as very practical for more than a few minutes. I know environmentally friendly, but I just didn’t get it. But after trying one out to see, it’s really not much different than a normal straw. It did soften after some time, but that was about it. I’ll need to keep them somewhere in the kitchen so that I remember to use them.

This is probably my most favorite item out of everything. It’s so cute and snuggly, and its lovely Christmas themed picture feels so warm and inviting.

It’s the perfect little throw for the shoulders or lap, or for a quick nap with a pet or plush toy. I admit that I prefer blankets that entirely cover me, rather than most of me or half, but I didn’t mind pairing this with my actual blanket when I tried it out last night. It was very cozy... in fact, as I write this (at 11:15 am), I feel like I need a nap... (I woke up around 8:50 am). 

This is our last item, which felt pretty out of place to me. Gudetama is Sanrio, sure, and it fits because of the Yume Prize; but it clearly doesn’t have a Christmas theme. I also got this item before, or one very similar, so that was kind of a meh moment. This was the only item I’m not feeling out of both boxes, and I do like Gudetama mind you.

~Opinions~

Content - 5 out of 5, I really really liked the items this month! The gudetama sticky note set is nice too, even though I didn’t really care that much for it. It’s okay though, because I could always give it to my friend, who really likes Gudetama and doesn’t have it.

Price - 5 out of 5. In comparison to the DokiDoki November box (okay so I made two comparisons <3<), I feel like this one was definitely worth the price we pay. Or at least closer to it? Not counting the name brand factor, the items are very nice and have a lot of detailing. 

Theme: 5 out of 5. The Gudetama sticky notes have nothing to do with the Christmas theme, but it’s still Sanrio so I’d give it it them.

Total Rank: 9 out of 10 Cuties. I love this box :3 it was a lot of fun and very cute, I’m very excited to use the items within it and with Christmas coming up again soon (I know I’m horribly behind) and the weather cooling down again, this would be the perfect time to bust them out.

Alright, so what did you guys think? I know it wasn’t my best review, but I was a bit... lacking of words for a couple of items. I managed to knock out 2 reviews though, I feel accomplished. I probably won’t be combining the next two though, because there’s a lot of items in one box, and the other is a special case. I’ll explain when I get to it for anyone who may not have seen my past posts.

Until then, see you next time~

[skywalkerbc]

Mads’ massive bellarke rec (pt.1)

So I’ve been asked a couple times to make a bellarke fanfiction rec list so here it is! (Okay so I realised that I had way too many bc our fandom is filled with so many talented authors so even though this is actually massive, there will be several parts)

(Also- I don’t know everyone’s tumblrs so if you know any of these author’s tumblr accounts, please lmk so I can link them properly!)

In no particular order, here are some of my all time fav blarke fics:

~

MODERN-VERSE AUS

I dreamed you a sin (and a lie) by monroeslittle

“If I do this,” Blake said, “how are you imagining it’s going to work? I can’t just knock on his door, and say I want in again. It’s been eleven years. And even before I left, I never cared about the business. Do you have a plan? You say you want me to open the door for an agent. How? What’s that mean?”

“You’re going to get in touch with your grandfather again at your wedding,” Clarke said.

He stared.

“I hope you don’t have a girlfriend, Mr. Blake.”

fake!married AU. Clarke's in the FBI, Bellamy's the grandson of a mobster, and they've got to work together.

~

Lines in the Sand by @fen-ha-fuck-you

“You looked like you were gonna hurl when you got up,” Raven said, pausing for a moment. “I’m not sure this is better.”

Clarke shook her head minutely, finally looking up at herself in the mirror. She quickly wiped away the tears that had fallen. She hadn’t even noticed. “I’m fine.”

“No,” Raven replied, her eyebrows scrunching together. “You’re not.”

“I just… had a little too much to drink. That’s all.”

“That why you’re strangling that poor sink?”

~

i’m not asking much of you by emmylou

When Clarke gets invited to her ex's wedding- her CHEATING ex's wedding- she knows she can't go alone. She's not dating anyone, so she has to find a boyfriend, real or fake, fast. Luckily, Octavia knows just the guy.

~

I’d Promise You Everything (But I’m Not Sure How Much Good There Is In That) by @talistheintrovert

Bellamy has never been a huge fan of Valentine's Day, but Clarke outright hates it. Her father died at the start of February when she was in high school, she found out her first boyfriend was cheating on her two weeks later, and then almost exactly a year after that, her girlfriend dumped her to travel around Asia.

But now they're in their 20s and Bellamy finally admitted that he loved her a few months ago. He knows this is the real thing and he absolutely knows that she feels the same way, but he also knows how miserable Clarke gets around Valentine's, and he's determined to cheer her up this time.

~

hold me in your beating heart by amberwoods

He’d got out of bed and walked to the nursery to console his youngest child. When he’d been shushing and cradling her for about twenty minutes, he noticed a silhouette hovering in the door opening. Clarke.

“I’ve got her,” he’d said softly, his voice rough with sleep, “Go back to bed.”

She just stood there. When he took a closer look, he noticed she had a strange expression on her face. She was looking at Madi.

“Clarke?” he asked carefully.

~

And There’s a Hand My Trusty Friend by Who_Needs_Reality

He sighs dramatically. “Can’t believe you’re not gonna let me kiss you until next year.” That sends a sudden, sharp jolt of sadness through Clarke, the realisation that they’re going to be spending another day spent pretending that she’s not his; it means ushering in their first year together… by, well, not being together.

Or, {NYE fluff where Bellamy and Clarke are together, but since they're keeping it a secret from their friends, they run into an unforeseen complication.}

~

A Little Bit of Something (God, It’s Better Than Nothing) by @grumpybell

“-Clarke.” He sounds alarmed, suddenly, none of the casual, arrogant, amusement that had been in his voice moments before. “What?” “Why is your mom calling me?” “Shit. Don't answer that. Listen, okay. She and I kind of got into an argument today-” “-what else is new?” “Shut up. Anyway, she told me she's getting married and there was just so much subtext about my failure at relationships and my lack of love life, and I might have told her I'm engaged too.” There's silence on the other end of the phone. “To you,” Clarke prompts.

~

I Don’t Need Your Love (I Just Need You Now) by @talistheintrovert

“What was the worst part?” Raven asked.

“Probably when he shoved me against a wall and stuck his tongue down my throat,” Clarke admitted, sipping her hot chocolate, which she quickly realised was spiked with rum. God, her friends were perfect.

Octavia and Raven both gasped, but it was Bellamy’s reaction that she found the most interesting. He didn’t say anything, didn’t look up from his book, or even alter his expression, but his hand balled into a fist on the arm of his chair.

OR: The AU where Clarke and Bellamy hate each other until Bellamy realises she's being mistreated, and does his best to protect her.

~

Come Close (And Then Even Closer) by sheryl_sems

Clarke thinks about Octavia and how her best friend had stormed out of the house earlier that day, furious at Clarke for taking her brother's side in their argument. She thinks about Raven, and Monty, and Jasper, and Wells, and Lincoln but in the end, she really only wants one person by her side and it's fruitless to fight herself on this one.

"Could you call Bellamy?" She finally says in a soft, hoarse whisper.

Or the one where Clarke is attacked and the only person she wants by her side in the aftermath is Bellamy Blake.

~

You Look Like a Movie. You Sound Like a Song. by lordmxrphy

She knows shouldn’t care. She and Bellamy were never together. They never dated. But for as long as Clarke can remember, Bellamy’s held her heart. Even if he’ll never know it.

(a modern au inspired by when we were young by adele)

~

What We Do to Each Other by marauders_groupie

A Bellarke AU in which Bellamy and Clarke are childhood best friends, separated by life and trying to relearn each other again.

~

A Symbol of Goodwill And Love by LayALioness

“So when you said we need a good tree, you meant,” he hedges, and she huffs, little clouds of steam escaping her mouth.

“One that needs a good home,” she says, like it’s obvious. “Shopping for a Christmas tree is like going to the pound—you don’t look for a purebred at the pound, Bellamy. You look for the puppy with a missing eye, or mange. One that needs us.”

“If this is code for wanting us to get a puppy,” Bellamy muses, reaching out to tug on the tassels of her hat. “I think we should probably live together, first.”

~

We Have to Stop Meeting Like This by @goldenheadfreckledheart

Tumblr prompt: “We both have friends who party too hard and we keep running into each other in the bathroom while we hold their hair back.”

Aka, the three times Bellamy and Clarke meet each other while taking care of their friends + the one time they don’t.

~

Christmas Sweaters by lightyears

Clarke's upset that she won't fit into her Christmas sweater this year. Bellamy surprises her with a new one.

~

Ladylike by Who_Needs_Reality

Bellamy stares at her. "You want me to make out with you. Platonically."

Clarke very resolutely does not panic. "Do it for the views, Bellamy."

(Or, an AU in which Clarke works for a Buzzfeed-esque company, and has to kiss someone in order to test lipstick durability for a new video. Feelings and decidedly non-platonic nonsense ensue.)

~

Love Is Not a Victory March by @asroarke

“You could have been here four years ago,” she reminded, raising her eyebrows at him.

“No, I couldn’t have. I needed to be here with you,” he replied, and Clarke felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. It wasn’t the first time he said something like that, of course. But it caught her off guard every damn time.

“Was it worth the wait?”

“Yes, you were,” he replied, and how could Clarke not kiss him after that?

Olympics AU where a knee injury kept Bellamy and Clarke from making it to the Olympics... the first time around.

~

the tie that binds me to you by glowinghorizons

“we’ve been pen pals for like hella months and we finally decided to meet up and damn you’re cute, also did you break up with your jerk bf/gf yet?” au

or:

bellamy and clarke finally meet after months and months of hand-written letters, phone calls and text messages.

~

you bring me honeysuckle by caramelle

It suddenly strikes Bellamy, one day, that his girlfriend is in possession of what has to be the best hair in the entire cosmos.

Or, the one where Bellamy's fixation with Clarke's hair is totally normal and healthy.

~

Walk With Me by arysa13

Bellamy is pretty sure you aren't supposed to hit on the people you're supposed to be getting home safely, but he kind of wants to anyway.

Prompt: Bellamy works at safe walk and Clarke keeps falling asleep studying. And is the last one to leave the library every night!

~

Sugar, Spice, and All Things Nice by Who_Needs_Reality

Clarke just really wants a peppermint mocha. Breaking into the apartment of her ex, with whom she may-or-may-not still kind of be madly in love, is an unplanned side effect. Mostly.

Based on the prompt "listen i know i can’t just show up at your apartment at six in the morning but i need coffee and no one makes it like you do”

~

time flies but you’re the pilot by @onemanbellarmy

“Wait a minute, your new art teacher is Clarke Griffin?”

Gus paused to consider. “I think so?”

A huff of a surprised laugh escaped Bellamy. He hadn’t talked to Clarke since college.

(or, single parent x child's teacher AU)

~

the girl next door by funfanfin

The first time he hears her, he’s making his grandmother’s afritada recipe, a dish that reminds him of long, lazy, hot summers in the Philippines.

The first time he learns her name is on a Tuesday so ordinary and average he wouldn’t have remembered it otherwise.

The first time he realizes he loves her is during the early hours of a cool morning, with her curled into his side.

-OR-Bellamy hears singing from the apartment next door. It isn't long before he meets the girl behind the smoky, haunted voice, and it isn't long before he learns the reasons for her sorrow-filled singing.

~

only fools rush in by @chants-de-lune

based on the tumblr prompt:

"just drove a guy home from a bar and for the whole 15 minutes he talked about how excited he was to see his wife"

~

the fuzziest of woodland creatures by tempestaurora

“it’s 2 in the morning and i was just trying to get home but i left my sunroof open all day and now there’s a squirrel in my car and it scared me and i drove into a pole – would you please stop laughing you’re a cop. you’re supposed to be helping”

~

Settling Debts by indygoh

"Um. Thank you. You didn't have to," she peeked up at him, suddenly shy for some reason. "I can pay you back."

Bellamy just chuckled, already shaking his head before she could finish her sentence.

"I've got a little sister. She probably would have kicked my ass if she found out I didn't do something to help you out back there."

Clarke raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Do you always rescue strange girls in desperate need of tampons?"

"Only the really cute ones with crowns on their butts."

~

when love hits (better make it worth the fall) by kay_emm_gee

Summary: Four times Clarke gets hit on the head (+1 time she doesn't) during her last semester of high school, and every single time, Bellamy Blake is somehow involved.

~

Turn the tide on my losing side by Lalalli

Clarke doesn’t know why Thelonius Jaha keeps posting really random shit to her Facebook wall, but whatever. It’s fine. It was weird at first, but she’s used to it now.

And then Bellamy gets involved and it gets weird again.

~

My Soft Place to Land by Who_Needs_Reality

Bellamy's happy to be back. He's even happier to see who's waiting for him.

{Or, soldier!Bellamy comes back home after being deployed and meets someone special}

~

We Keep it a Secret (You Leave Me Dying to Know) by @ringsabellamy

Bellamy doesn’t claim to be the greatest at dating, especially considering he’s been quietly in love with his best friend for the past six years, but hey, at least he’s been /trying/ to get over her. Not, of course, that this current situation is helping.

Or: Bellamy just asked Clarke to fake being his girlfriend for one date, honest. But then things got a little...out of hand.

~

If You Like Your Coffee Hot by marauders_groupie

They haven't been friends for a very long time but Bellamy still can't ignore Clarke acting out and getting into fights when she was a model student just a few months ago. They might’ve kept each other at distance for years but she is still his first best friend.

~

Calm my tears, Kill these fears by @goldenheadfreckledheart

Prompt: I somehow always get you as a cashier at Walmart and it's always when I’m buying the weirdest shit at the weirdest time. “A head of lettuce at 3am?” "It's a long story”

~

bit of a disaster, aren’t we? by katsumi

Clarke breaks her ankle and really would prefer that Bellamy not find out about it. She has a feeling he's going to get mad. (She's right.)

~~~

CANON-VERSE AUS

Meet Me in the Morning by monroeslittle

“I guess one of us is messed up,” he said, “and it’s part of our hallucination that the other is, too.” He paused. “Seems appropriately hellish that my mind sticks me with you.”

She pursed her lips. “Likewise.”

AU. Clarke is trapped in a stupid time loop, and guess who's trapped with her?

~

I Miss Our Little Talks by @chants-de-lune

“Wow,” she breathed out. “I thought that one would have done me in.”

Bellamy didn’t smile, shaking his head and taking the slightest edge of coldness off his glare.

“You took a bullet for me.” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t ever do that again.”

~

Today is Dying by theprincessandtheking

“Look, sorry, but it’s an emergency,” Harper said, eyes firmly fixed on the wall ahead of her.

The tea he’d downed at the bar was still in his system, as evidenced by the way the room spun when he reached for his shirt a few feet away and struggled to pull it over his head.

“So much of an emergency that you couldn’t knock?”

“It’s Clarke.”

~

That I Will Never Escape by @talistheintrovert

“Execute me; I poisoned you. Let Clarke live."

“Very well,” Octavia raised a hand and a soldier with a gun pointed it down at him. He steeled himself for the bullet that would end his life, but before it left the chamber, Clarke yelled out.

“No!”

He jumped, surprised, when she moved suddenly, and he registered in his periphery as she snatched the sword from the floor and spun it in her hand deftly.

“Clarke, what are you doing?” Bellamy frowned, his gaze switching to her, but a part of him already knew. His body was reacting to it before his brain could catch up – he felt his breath catch in his throat, and his heart-rate speed up.

~

we were nothing more than stardust by cresswell

"I'm going to kill that bastard," he says quietly, bent close to Clarke's ear. "He's not going to touch you again, and I'm going to kill him."

Her pinkie finger extends, brushing the waistband of his jeans, and he carefully pushes their palms together, lacing their fingers. He thinks she smiles in her sleep.

~

Love is Not a Whisper (or a weakness) by monroeslittle

"There was a strange, muffled snap, and the tentacle around her middle was retracted. The hold on her ankle was gone, and Bellamy was pulling her up through the water. She began to pump her arms, and they broke the surface; she gasped, and coughed.

He pressed a gun into her hand. “If you see a ripple, shoot,” he ordered."

AU. The dropship doesn't land on land. The next seven years are a little bit different.

~

Astraphobia by @chants-de-lune

The fear of thunder and lightning. In other words, rainy day cuddling with a bit of angst.

~

Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat by islabbe

There was blood everywhere; some of it red, but most of it was black. Bellamy wrinkled his nose at the metallic smell as it filled his nose. Pushing down the reflex to gag, he quickly made his way over to the tent.

“Clarke, stay with me,” he said gruffly, his voice straining as bent down to enter hers and Madi’s tent. She was drifting in and out of consciousness and Bellamy knew the longer he dawdled, the less time she had.

~

We Can’t Leave Us Behind by @ringsabellamy

"I don’t blame you for that, not anymore. I understand why you had to leave. But it still hurt, Clarke. And I guess...I think your goodbye reminds me of how I felt. Of what it was like to lose you.”

“The kiss,” she says, eyes full of sudden realization. “You think when I kiss you, it means I’m going to leave you.”

Or: Bellamy has a lot of healing to do, one try at a time.

~

Set The Dark On Fire by @talistheintrovert​

Clarke isn't coping well with peacetime on the Eligius ship, and while Bellamy has woken some of the others (mainly spacekru) and tries to organise a trip to the ground, making decisions and considering all the variables, Clarke makes a choice of her own:

She'll take herself out of the equation.

OR: the post season 5 idea I had to write because all of the unresolved emotional turmoil this season is actually killing me and someone needs to notice that Clarke is in pain, for the love of god.

~ 

for everything unsaid (there is a flourish of my pride) by theprincessandtheking

“I don’t know,” he says. “I guess I just didn’t really care either way anymore.”

She pauses, and from the corner of his eye he can see the odd expression on her face.

“So in the middle of wartime, when everything is going to hell around us, shaving is still a priority. But you spend six years with all the free time in the world for it, and suddenly you don’t care?”

He tries to smile at the joke, but he thinks it comes out as more of a grimace.

“I guess down here it was more of a sense of normalcy,” he explains. “But with you gone—”

He pauses, clears his throat in an attempt to keep his voice steady.

“Without you there, nothing really felt normal.”

~

I can never be alone when all gods keep calling me out by angel_deux

Raven fixes the radio after a few years, and Clarke can talk to them again.

~

they will see my strength (in this love i’ve found) by glowinghorizons 

“If you’re married they won’t let you go alone.”

The silence is deafening. Bellamy braces himself for the slap he knows is going to come his way any second, but it never happens.

“You--” she sounds breathless. “You don’t even know me.”

Bellamy shrugs. “Look. I-- this is crazy. I know. I just know that I can’t let my sister go to the ground without me.”

OR, Clarke finds out she's being sent to the Ground only days after her Dad dies. Bellamy is determined to go to the Ground with his sister. They need to fool everyone to make it work.

~

Like a Second Heart by Who_Needs_Reality

She’s hardly surprised, the first few times it happens. The hallucinations are vivid, but not long, not much, just short, staccato bursts of him, tiny pieces to keep her going -- his hand extended out to her to help her up from the rubble, his voice a soothing murmur in her ear telling her she’ll be alright until she finds water… of course she sees him, of course she hears him. It’s Bellamy -- who else would her mind conjure up to help her survive? There are worse symptoms praimfaya has left her with than a few too-real imaginings of her best friend after all.

{Clarke's not worried when she starts to hallucinate Bellamy. It's only when the dreams continue to haunt her even after the real Bellamy comes back that she's concerned}

~

We Sure Know How to Run by winterwaters

While attempting to get Jaha farther from the AI and the nuclear warhead, Clarke, Murphy and Emori run into trouble from another tribe and Clarke is injured. Bellamy and his group happen to be following that tribe and help take care of her. On the way home, she confronts her feelings for Bellamy - with a bit of help from Emori.

~

darling, just hold my hand by killianslonghaul

“I know you don’t like public displays of affection, but… you’re really not going to kiss me goodbye?”

or

Bellamy doesn't really do PDA, but he might make an exception.

~

baby on board by katebishop 

As a soon-to-be father, Bellamy thinks he's feeling the appropriate amount of worry and concern for his pregnant wife.

Clarke thinks he's utterly ridiculous.

~~~

Other AUS

Forbidden Words by onceuponahundred 

we’re in between classes, and we both hear a fourth year calling a first year a mudblood, and neither of us are having any of that prejudiced bullshit. unfortunately, my impulse was to hex them, and yours was to punch them in the face, and my jelly-legs curse hit you instead, i’m really sorry, and we both are probably getting detention now, but hey, plus side, you’re kind of cute

{Bellarke in Harry Potter}

~

Name One Hero Who Was Happy by Who_Needs_Reality

Clarke huffs again, and he glances at her.

“The Curse of Achilles, Bellamy? Do you know how risky that was?”

“I got the idea when I felt my soul being torn from my body.”

She sniffs, imperious. “How did you do it?”

“Huh?” Her voice is smaller when she speaks again. “How did you...not get your soul...y’know?”

“Oh,” he swallows. “I had some help.”

{Bellarke in a Percy Jackson/The Last Olympian AU}

~

Don’t Think I Want What I Used to Want by arysa13 

Bellamy has a compass that points to what his heart most desires, which, as a pirate, must be treasure, obviously.

~

can’t control my feelings, can’t control my thoughts by katsumi

When Jasper accidentally gifts Clarke a love potion, everyone she interacts with starts acting...weird. Everyone, that is, except Bellamy. [Hogwarts AU]

~~~

[rosereview]

Ketch-Up: Jan - Mar 2020

Okay so I’ve been terrible at this blog thing, only posting sometimes, but I guess that’s why I have it, it’s just for me to post shit when I feel like it. So I decided to do this new Ketch-Up series for whenever I want to talk about a bunch of stuff at once. So a lot has happened at the start of 2020, musically, in the book world and with TV. So my plan is to just talk about certain things in each category and see what happens. 

Movies:

Since getting Netflix for Christmas, I have been watching a lot of stuff. There are five movies I’d specifically like to talk about, which I watched from January till the beginning of March, but these are by no means even half of the amount of movies I watched, just the ones I need to write about.

6 Balloons

So I started watching this after I finished Now You See Me 2 and I just wanted more Dave Franco because I love him, so 6 Balloons popped up as being one of his recent films and I decided to watch it after being intrigued with the synopsis. Firstly, I was not expecting it to be scripted and filmed the way it was. It was super emotional and I have mixed feelings about it, although I do not regret watching it. It’s major theme is addiction, so if you're not into that, or it may trigger you, don’t watch it because that’s all it’s about. I really did like the brother and sister dynamic that it had, but the whole journey that the main character goes through to help her brother is stressful and it had this creepy stress reliever audio going on in the sister’s head which really put me off, but was powerful at the same time.

Miss Americana

This one is the documentary of Taylor Swift and I loved it. I thought it was so interesting and even watched it again with my mom because I thought that Taylor’s story was such an intriguing one. I really understand now where she was at with the Reputation album and the reason for the song choices she had. At first I was not a big Taylor Swift fan except for the occasional song, but now I gotta say that with this Lover era and Taylor being more open and using her voice for what she believes in, I may become a full blown Swifty. 

P.S. I Still Love You

The sequel to To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before is a rom com, based off of the YA book series, which I have read and enjoyed. The first movie was really great which I have watched more than once, so I was expecting good things from this next movie. And it definitely wasn’t bad, but I did not fully enjoy the second book, so it’s not surprising that I didn’t love this movie. I’m just a big Peter Kavinsky fan and when John Ambrose McClaren shows up, I just cringe. Also Lara Jean is more cringy in this movie because of the way she plays both John and Peter and is practically running away from her problems with Peter, and reliving baby school romance with John Ambrose. I just think the idea of liking a guy that you had a crush on when you were ten is so stupid because no one is the same person from when they were ten, and all those “moments” that you had were really nothing more than two kids hanging out! I would rather have just had the first book be a standalone I think.

Marriage Story

This movie is really sad. It won an Oscar so I thought I should look into it. I saw it on Netflix and really liked the plot so I watched it and boy was it ever sad. The whole plot is about divorce and the whole experience and journey to actually getting a divorce and how it is so easy for it to get messy even with two adults who are still friends. I thought it was a very well made movie and I loved both Scarlett Johanson and Adam Driver in it. They did so well. 

Crazy Stupid Love

This was one of my more recent watches and I was pleasantly surprised with the way the story went. I really liked a lot of the elements of the story, but some parts did make me feel uncomfortable. Like the babysitter having a crush on the dad and was going to send him nudes, while his son had a major crush on her. It was just really weird, but the overall themes of family were really sweet, and the same goes for the friendship the dad had with the young guy in the bar who started to date his oldest daughter. But overall it was really good. 

TV Shows:

Formula One: Drive to Survive Seasons 1 & 2

As our first real Netflix watch, my family and I got addicted to this docuseries. I thought it was interesting and amazing for the whole first season and when the second season came out, it just got better. In the second season we got to see the bigger formula one teams as well as all of the drama with the smaller teams and see the totally different worlds with the ones with money and the ones without. It was honestly an amazing ride and I can’t wait for the next season.

Sherlock Season 1

This is the other full season that I watched in these three months and I got to say that I really enjoyed it. Honestly some parts freaked me out, but overall I loved learning and seeing Sherlock and Watson grow together. The mysteries were all very intriguing and made me want more and I will definitely continue watching through the next seasons.

Books:

This list is without my most recent read, Chain of Gold by Cassandra Clare, because I have a whole other post/review for that one, so if you want to hear my thoughts, check it out, either on my post list, or scrolling down to the post before this one!

Beartown by Fredrik Backman

This book was amazing! The way it was written was literally the most powerful thing I have ever experienced. This book does deal with heavy subjects, but the way it is told is so cool, showing everyone’s perspective. If you get the chance to read this, then do it because it will change you.

Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor

So this book I had heard so many good things about so I was excited to read it, but the problem was that I have been in kind of a reading slump, and starting a new fantasy series is never the smartest thing to do when that happens. But I had heard great things, so I thought that this book would get me out of that slump, but it epicly failed. It was a good book and I enjoyed the plot, but there was nothing supper exciting or special about it. I think I’ll still read the second book, but it’s not high on my priority list. It just wasn’t the best time for me to read it I guess.

China Rich Girlfriend by Kevin Kwan

This book was fun to read. I had been wanting to read it ever since I finished Crazy Rich Asians, but just hadn’t gotten the time to, but I’m glad I finally have because it’s such a nice fluffy read, filled with drama, but you don’t really have to think during the read. It’s a perfect reading slump read. Definitely recommend the series, it’s a ride in a good way. 

Catharsis: Pain by Rowan Dugray

This book is actually all poetry which is very outside of my comfort zone, but a girl I knew in high school wrote this so I had to buy it and read it. I got to say that I was really impressed and I really liked a lot of the poems. Lots of them were very thought provoking and relatable, while others were just very sad and painful. But that’s the beauty of poetry, it’s pure emotion and abstract feelings put into words.

Romanov by Nadine Brandes

This one was also a slow read, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t enjoyable. It was actually very educational and I loved seeing the way that Russia was during the revolution. It was a slow burn type of book, but the characters were fun people to read about and see interact, so that made up for the lesser plot points in the book. I loved the end and thought it was a very good book overall. 

Music:

These are just a few of the songs and artists that I had a lot of feelings about and which came out during these months. 

Faouzia- The Road

The Road was Faouzia’s first song out in 2020, but I also want to talk about her many singles that came out in 2019 as well because wow! I love Faouzia and all of her songs are just so powerful and beautiful. I need an album from her ASAP because I get literally too excited for new singles to come out and it’s almost toture waiting. She also posts her ‘work-in-progress’ snip-its and I literally just keep relistening to them when I get a craving for Faouzia and new music. When she comes out with an album, I will definitely listen to it on repeat. 

Olivia O’Brien- The Results of My Poor Judgement

So at first I wasn’t sure about these mixtape things Olivia was starting to come out with, especially with the first one that was released at the end of last year. It was called “A Sad Fucking Summer” I think, and I wasn’t like really impressed, until this next mixtape came out. This mixtape, “Results of My Poor Judgement” has three songs on it, unlike the first one that only had two, and I am in love with all three! Literally they are just so good and I can’t stop listening to them. Josslyn is a literal bitch fest that makes me so happy, while the other two just hit hard in the emotions while they are still great bops. I don’t know how she does it!

Katy Perry- Never Worn White

For this one, I saw the video first when it was released and the number one viewed video on YouTube. At first I was confused because I didn’t know Katy Perry was engaged, and I was like this is for sure a wedding song. And then I got to the end of the video… and she’s pregnant! It was her pregnancy reveal, and I thought it was the most beautiful thing ever. I am a sucker for personal songs that show the singer's personal life and obviously have a lot of meaning to them. That’s probably why I never really liked Katy Perry’s newest stuff before, because it’s never felt really real to me and more just to make a pop album. But to see Katy Perry in this video, singing this song, made me so happy, especially since she was like my idol when I was little and now she’s growing up and moving on in life and it’s just really nice to see.

Julia Michaels- Heartless

I am a big Julia Michaels fan. (Not as big as a Halsey fan, but I do love Julia!) So until Julia starts releasing her own projects again, like hopefully a Inner Monologue Part 3, I will have to settle for collabs like this one. Honestly though, I really like this song and it’s got a lot of feeling to it while still making you want to get up and dance. It’s just a really good country number and I hope Julia does more country, because she sounds good in it.

Alec Benjamin- Narrated for You and These Two Windows

So the newest favourite artist I found these three months was Alec Benjamin! I love the newer music he’s releasing right now and can’t wait for his new album to come out in April, but also I discovered his debut album, which I was really impressed with. Lately I’ve been feeling like I haven’t had any good male artists in my phone that I’m supper obsessed with, like Ed Sheeran. But I’m hoping with this new year that changes and I already see it starting to, especially when I find good ones like Alec Benjamin. 

Noah Cyrus- I Got So High That I Saw Jesus

I feel like this will be a good year for Noah Cyrus. It’s high time for a debut album from her, or even another EP, but I just need something because her newest music has just been stellar. I was worried at first that her brand would be more in the rap or emo stuff, but her music has been more my kind of music, slower and softer tunes with lots of feels. This song definitely shows that side of her and I love it.

If you made it to the end, thanks for reading my thoughts! I know it was long and probably boring, but oh well. 

Until next time!

~Rose Reviews

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

As previously warned, I have a huge number of questions for the fanfic author ask thing. So, here we go: 4, 5, 6, 12, 13, 14, 15, 17, 20, 21, 24, 25, 26, 27, 29, 30, 31, 33, 36, 37 and then, if that wasn’t already enough, and there is anything you want to answer that I haven’t already asked, then pick one of your choosing to answer as well! 💕

Holy crap you weren’t kidding! lol this is gonna be so much fun!

4: What made you start writing fanfiction?

My 3rd grade teacher, Mr. Gula, gave me a challenge to write out my own ending to my favorite movie or TV show. As I was never really one to back down from a challenge, I went home and wrote out my own story about the first Transformers movie and another one about what I would do if I had been in HIgh School Musical. Yeah... needless to say, I was the Hermione of my grade.

5: Favorite pairing?

I know I don’t write for them, but my top is probably either Dee Dee and Frankie from the Beach Blanket Bingo, Bikini Beach, and Muscle Beach type movies or Seaweed and Penn from Hairspray. Something about those types of romance are sort of sweet to me. Guess I’m just an old soul. I also adore Cory and Topanga form Boy Meets World, but I’m mostly here for the older romances.

6: Least favorite pairing?

I’ll probably get flack for all of my answer, but I’m a little bit opinionated about this lol. The way Ginny and Harry’s relationship in the films was, was just confusing and so not what I had expected from them. The books gave them so much more than the movies ever did. The books were way better. Another case I don’t like was Bella and Edward/Renesmee and Jacob from Twilight. I think the other relationships in Twilight were better (Jasper and Alice are so sweet!) and Stephanie Meyer just kinda tossed Bella and Edward and Renesmee and Jacob together in the hope it would work and it just didn’t.

12: What’s the weirdest fic you’ve ever written?

I can’t believe I’m admitting to this.... I used to write full stories about One Direction. I had a full Niall x OC story I posted on a 1D Imagines group on Facebook that got almost 2,000 likes. It was silly, but, my word, it was almost as long as Broken Record. It spanned over the month of October 2014 and I can’t believe it ot the attention it did. It wasn’t all that good, but I guess it was good enough for people to like it, so that’s alright by me lol

13: Weirdest fic you’ve ever read?

I don’t believe it’s on fanfiction anymore, but I remember the basic info on it. It was Make a Wish by FireBladePrime. It was pretty much a girl made a wish on a shooting star and it made her favorite toys come to life as full size humans. I believe she ended up falling in love with one, but I’m pretty sure it just ended up being something that she came up with in her head when she was in a coma due to a car accident. Definitely a weird one, but it was pretty well written as far as memory serves.

14: Do the people in your life know you write fic? How do they feel about it?

Well, quite a bit of my family knows, actually. It started with just my parents, but my dad was always wanting to show off whatever his baby princess did (I was his only biological child, my older siblings were from my mom’s ex-husband). Dad shared with his siblings, mom shared with her siblings and my grandfather. My nieces and nephews know as well, but I believe that’s it. As far as I know, they are all very supportive and have no problem with it. My neice, Lorali, and nephews, Erek and Drake, have read all of my Teen Beach fics and quote things from them daily just to see if I’ll react, but they mostly just like reading them or having me read to them. They’re very loving and supportive of my writing.

15: Favorite fandom to write for?

I don’t know if I could pick one! I love Teen Beach so much, but I also have a certain affinity for writing small oneshots or “x Reader” style stories for Avengers and Harry Potter which can be found here and here. I do share the Harry Potter page with my sister, but she handles reblogging things to our page. Anyway, those would probably be my top fandoms!

17: What is the harshest criticism you’ve ever gotten on a fic?

Holy crap. Okay, I may or may not have repressed this for a long time, but I have more than one that I can’t decide between. The other one was from a girl in my class who stole my writing notebook and read my writing. Fuck you, Ashley She gave it back to me later that day with marker scribbles all over my writing. She said that I was horrible. The next day, I stole the makeup bag she had brought from her mother’s bathroom and buried it on the playground.

I was a good child that believed in getting even. Nobody found out about that btw.

Anyway, the first real criticism I had on a fic was someone who said, “You have no talent and you shouldn’t be writing. It all sucks and you’ll never go anywhere as an author.” I had actually written this down and, when I felt it no longer mattered to me, I burned it. It took me a couple of years to come to the realization that their opinion didn’t matter to me.

 20: What’s your biggest struggle when it comes to writing fic?

Having time to sit down and write, probably. I usually have great ideas, but, in order to write them out and have them come out alright, I would need to sit down and feel it all come together while I write. I need time that I just don’t have most of the time.

21: Your biggest strength?

When I sit down to write, it all just flies out of me. Once i start, I don’t stop until my idea is all out into either m notebook or my computer. I can have a simple idea that somehow spirals into an eight page chunk that I never thought was possible. I like to think of that as my biggest writing strength.

24: What’s your process?

Write out the “backbone plot” (The stuff that has to happen, no matter what)

Decide on characters. Figure out appearance, personality and basic traits. (Sorta like a sim, I guess)

Bounce ideas with whoever will listen/listen to music (Gain ideas and write them in a small notebook)

Wait for inspiration and time to line up accordingly.

Write as much as I can.

Go back into that later on and edit what needs to be there and delete what isn’t necessary.

Publish!

I hope that’s what this means, at least.

25: Of all the fics you’ve written, which is your favorite?

Most definitely Broken Record and Creating a Rift. It was one of my first published stories and I just adore them.

26: Which of your fics is your least favorite?

I don’t even know how to find it anymore, but it was called Life’s a Rollercoaster. It was a Transformers fic that I had written when I was 11. Never finished it bc I lost the login stuff and it, now that I remember it, sucked hard.

27: What’s your most popular fic? Do you think the popularity is warranted, or is there another fic that you think deserves it more?

Any of them really! I love that Broken Record has had almost 10,000 reads, but I don’t believe it. As I go back over it, I wonder how on earth it gained popularity in the first place, but I couldn’t be happier that it did!

29: Which of your fics was the hardest to write?

My book. Probably the Christmas one, tbh. I only feel the pull to write it around the holidays and that kinda sucks lol

30: Favorite fic writers?

You better know you’re number one, girlie! For those who don’t know, Eleanor here is one of my closest internet friends and she’s practically family to me at this point!

As for other authors, I love Ulurnaga’s Primary Mechanisms story (Transformers). I know she hasn’t updated it since 2014, but it was so good that she could’ve left it at multiple parts and it would’ve been fine. I think it has abot 118 chapters to it. I have a few favorites from AutobotGuy710 who does a lot of Transformers stories basing around adoption (helps for my references and also a better understanding of what goes on a bit in adoptions/foster care). On Tumblr, I have a few faves, but not a ton. I like imagine-and-marvel and potterlyimagines fics a lot, but that’s about it at the moment as I haven’t sat down to read fics in a little while.

31: Do you write just for fun, or would you ever consider pursuing writing?

A bit of both, actually. I mostly enjoy writing my fics as a bit of an escape from reality. I enjoy being able to place myself in a world that doesn’t exist and sort of play around a bit. However, I do actually write as a job. I was working for my county newspaper for a while and that spiraled into me writing my first book, Feather Picked. I am currently writing one of the sequels to Feather Picked which takes the focus from my original main character, Melody, and moves it to her best friend, Roxy. I am planning on publishing a total of at least 5 books, the first four being the chronological 4 that take place over the course of a full year, each taking one season. The last one will be a look into the future, hopefully.

My first book can be found here!

33: Fanfiction pet peeves?

Goodness gracious. As someone who loves English classes, when people don’t place paragraphs correctly or spell simple words correctly, it reeeeeeally grinds my nerves. I will still sit through a story if it’s a well plotted story, but, come on people, at least do proper paragraphing!!!

Also, when people spell “definitely” as “defiantly”...... uuuuuuuuggggghhhhhhhhh

36: Which charachter(s) would you never write for?

For this one, I don’t really have much to say.

Probably characters from shows like soap operas or shows that never seem to end. If I can’t grasp the character’s backstory or personality after watching it because it never stops changing whenever it benefits the story or what the writers have planned, I refuse to write for them. 

Mary Sue types like Bella Swan who are merely the damsel in distress  and are only there to play out the author’s wish to be put in some type of scenario where everyone fawns over them constantly (can be applied to male characters as well).

37: Which character is your favorite to write for?

Out of already made characters: Butchy, Lela, Cheech, Evie, Ben, Harry Hook, Bucky Barnes, Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood.

Out of my OCs: Mick, Malina, Roxy Madden, Candi DiMaggio

Since you said I could pick one if I wanted, I’m going to pick #40.

40: Imagine yourself 10 years in the future; do you think you’ll still be writing fic?

I think I will be, yes. I don’t think my ideas for movies and books will ever stop. Especially knowing what I have planned after Creating A Rift is done. But... that’s a story for another time, lol

[divinion1990]

Beyond Sunsets; Ten Years Later

Summary: After ten long years away from his home town of Miakoda, Florida, Tom Kiewa returns with his young family to reunite with friends, enemies and plenty of exes. Original Fiction, based on a roleplay site and written 10 years ago. Many characters originally designed by a team of writers. This would not have been created with the amazing friends and memories we gained all that time ago! This is my tribute to them.

New Years Eve; 2018-2019

Chapter 1

Christmas decorations still adorned the town hall in Miakoda. The building was fresh and new as if it had only just been made although it had been standing for just less than ten years now. Tom had never been inside of it before, it had barely been finished for a few weeks when he had packed his bags and left the small town, but he was pleased with the results. “You see this?” he said, picking up the young child who was looking at the decorations all around. “This is what your old man did.”

“You did this?!” Brett asked, his young brown eyes opening wide as he admired all around himself, though he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to be looking at.

“Tom, don’t lie to him,” his wife warned him with a playful glare, continuing to walk forwards and paying very little attention to the bright golden and silver streams across her path.

Tom frowned slightly, pulling up Brett so he could carry him more comfortably; the young child was getting heavier by the day but Tom was determined to not show his weakness. “I’m not lying!” he protested. “I really did help put this together,” he said, following as quickly as physically possible, though he did quickly give in and put Brett back down. “There was this charity fundraiser thing, right, and I totally just got more than anyone else, because that’s just how generous I am.”

Chelsea laughed quietly under her breath, agreeing in words and disagreeing with the tone of her voice. She took one of Brett’s hands, careful that he wasn’t going to get his small fingers tangled in her mother’s finest jewellery. Little legs struggled to keep up, especially now that Tom had gained some speed and was making his way towards the main hallway. He was fidgeting, the wife could see that easily from the way he wrung his hands, the way his eyes caught everything in the room and yet took in nothing. She wondered whether he was nervous or excited, the two seemed to walk hand in hand with the emotions of the room.

“Tom,” she called him gently to pull him back for a second. He turned around, with the same wide-eyed anticipation she had expected, and so she reached over and gave him a reassuring kiss. “Ready?”

“I was born ready, sweetheart,” he said.

The main hall was even more lavish than the rest of the new building. A giant tree still rested its elegant evergreen branches against the corner of the room, striped in gold, silver and crystal baubles. The floor was so brightly shined that the green bounced right under the feet of the graceful dancers. Tom, Chelsea and Brett had arrived ‘fashionably’ late so the room was already as full as it was expected to be all night, though it still boasted room for at least twice as many partiers. The young children made the most of the large area, bouncing around and lightly screaming between the notes of music as they choose who was ‘it’ and who was not. The teens gathered in corners of the room, bitching and conspiring, attacking their mobile phones with hormonal fury as the latest great dramas unfolded. And then there were the rest, sitting or standing with glasses of champagne, catching up with old friends, making new year’s resolutions they had no intention to keep.

A smile went across Tom’s face. He had worried about this day, about what would have happened if the people he had once known had recognised him – or even worse, if they had not. He had always considered him as somewhat of a celebrity in the small town and had even gone so far as to tell Chelsea he was the most well-known man in the small town. She was used to his hyperboles, but he felt that he owed her to show he had meant only the truth. His eyes scanned the room for the vague hope of anyone that he recognised. Ten years had aged the town; the faces he saw were like a waking dream of which he could not understand. Were those people who he recognised, or their relatives, or just strangers from a completely new town? “What are you wanting to drink?” he asked Chelsea.

She smiled, pretending to contemplate it. She knew he needed to mingle. “Sex on the beach, thanks.”

He smiled and leaned forwards, whispering into her ear “Maybe later,” he told her. Though he couldn’t resist entirely, he at least had some courtesy to not say things like that in front of Brett – Even if it was only because Chelsea had hammered that much into him over the years. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and a wink as he walked away.

The bar was at the far end of the hall, beside the giant Christmas tree, and so he had plenty of chance to look through the faces. People took very little notice of him, he wouldn’t have been surprised if no one thought the man in his late twenties was worth noticing. There were a few eye-glances, but for what reason he was uncertain. “A sex on the beach and a… orange juice, thanks,” he ordered, leaning over the counter. Perhaps a drink would be needed for the last few seconds of the new year, but he had no intention of spending the night in a drunken blur.

“Buying for yourself and your boyfriend?”

Tom looked to the side. He was surprised that he had not noticed the man early. He was ragged, wearing a suit which had already opened at the first few buttons and if he had ever had a tie it was gone now. He was still staring into his amber filled glass, barely even taking any notice of the stranger he had just insulted. Tom could not help but stare at the man. He appeared old, much older than anyone Tom should have been acquainted with surely… And yet there was a familiarity about him.

After an embarrassingly long time, he remembered the insult, and that he was supposed to say something back. “For my wife, actually,” he said, before adding to the barman. “Oh, and another oj. For my son.” He said.

The drunken man looked up. His cheeks were already red and his eyes bloodshot, and though his eyes had a glassy shine when they looked into Tom’s eyes they squinted, and he tried to remember. Bright blue eyes and dark hair were rare, as was Tom��s ability to show his age very slowly. “I’m surprised you don’t still get ID’d.”

The drinks were forgotten now. Tom was looking at the man now, as a smile was spreading over his face that he couldn’t even attempt to hide. Not only had he been remembered, but an old friend had done so. Tom pulled up the stool beside Anders Hartman, now realising just how unfortunate the years had been on the older friend. “Good to see you too, Hartman,” he said, “How has life been treating you? Pensions alright?”

Anders shook his head and laughed lightly. There was only 2 years between the two men but now more than ever it seemed like decades. While Tom had regained his handsome youth, the years had waged war against Anders and he had done nothing to stop them. He knocked back his drink with experience, and obviously scorned Tom for his choice not to. “I thought I taught you better than that,” he said, pointing at the orangey drinks.

Tom shrugged, leaning back slightly and trying to get more comfortable in the strange situation. “I don’t drink anymore. You should think about doing the same, you look like shit.”

“At least I don’t look like you.”

Things just hadn’t changed in all of these years… had they? Tom had expected some kind of tension or awkward passage, barriers that he needed to cross in order to enter the radar again, and even then he hadn’t expected anything to be as it had been. He had actually prayed for some change. “What have I missed, anyway?”

“You don’t ask for much, do you?” Anders asked, tapping the table for another refill and already getting out a new note to pay the man. “Quite a bit.” He said, trying to remember exactly how things had been so long ago. “Well, I got done for some shit. Did a couple years. Can’t get a job now, but that’s how life goes.”

Tom did nothing to hide the shock. “Seriously? What the fuck did you do?”

“Some… grievous bodily harm shit. All things considered, I got let off lightly,” he said, watching as the new drink was poured into the glass, only to disappear straight down his throat with a warm itch. “Maddie finally moved out.”

Tom pretended to not care. He pretended to not react at all, but as always all of his emotions were completely on display. He had appeared… disappointed that his ex- had skipped town, but at the same time, he was relieved. A meeting between her and his wife could not have ended well, he decided, but it would have been good to see Madeline one last time…. That was dangerous territory, even if he knew that he was comfortable with his wife and held no current feelings for the ex-girlfriend. “Oh? Where to?” he asked, trying to be casual.

“New York, I think. Got some contract or something, I don’t know. Indy went to Hollywood too,” he added.

Tom shrugged at the new snippet of information. “I didn’t really know her anyway.”

“Damn fucking straight you didn’t,” Anders said, slurring his words slightly. Tom was a flame, offering warmth when needed but when in contact with so many things he could easily set off a deadly flame. It just so happened most women were susceptible, and though he only tried to ‘help’ he was given the nickname ‘heartbreaker’ for a reason. “No, who the fuck did you know? Oh – you know that fucking irritating kid you kept trying to be better than?”

Tom gritted his teeth. “Archibald?”

“Yeah, he went off as well to try and do that singing thing,” he told him. He was really searching for scraps of information now, trying to fill in everything that had happened in ten years. It was difficult, especially since he hadn’t been here for most of them and the rest he had been drunk.

Two hands rested on Tom’s two shoulders. A beautiful blond stood above him, a wide and friendly smile was across her face, looking as if it was always one word away from bursting out in laughter. There was a glow about her; she was in love. “Made a friend?” she inquired, looking at Hartman with cautious interest. She could smell the alcohol, she could see the state that the man was in and her instincts told her to take the family away from such a man.

“Chelsea, this is my old friend Hartman. Hartman, this is my wife, Chel,” Tom introduced the two proudly.

“You got a ball and chain?” Anders asked Tom, before looking sideways at Chelsea. “A very beautiful ball and chain, admittedly.”

Chelsea, in need to make herself out of this awkward situation, draped herself over her husband’s shoulders, giving Anders a look so teasingly seductive it could have melted the heart of any man. “Who’s to say he’s not my ball and chain?” she whispered, before reaching over and taking her drink off the table, offering a full view of her deep cleavage.

“Where’s MINE?!” cried the younger boy from behind them.

Tom swirled around on his stool, quick to give the spoilt boy every command that he could ever desire. He gave him the orange juice that he had ordered, receiving only a tongue sticking out as appreciation.

“You weren’t fucking kidding, were you?” Anders asked, shocked. “You’re fucking… domestic, mate. What happened to you?”

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

What is in a Name?

Rating: T

Genre: Family Fluff/Light Angst

Word count: 6385

Summary: Simon and Baz's teen son, Ebb, is having problems. Simon helps him through it.

Read on AO3

AN: I've written lots of parent fics, but it's usually when the kids are young and/or it's focused on their fictional daughter Tasha. So I wanted to do a fic with teen kids and more focused on their fictional son Ebb.  I wrote most of this in like a 3am writing frenzy so sorry for spelling mistakes, I tried to get all of them. Also disclaimer: I'm not a parent, but I tried to do my best. My own amazing parents are super open about their parenting philosophy so I tried to base a lot of this on them. Hope you guys enjoy it :)

———————————————

Simon

When the door slams hard enough to make the entire house rattle, I jump slightly. It’s just a natural reaction to loud noises, no matter how funny Baz thinks it is. I bend my head out of the kitchen just in time to get a glimpse of my son stomping past me.

“Hey, Ebb,” I say. “How was the skatepark?”

Ebb doesn’t answer, just grunts as he goes towards his room. Unfortunately that’s normal nowadays. I hear him stomp up the stairs and slam his bedroom door just as hard. I sigh and shake my head.

I thought Tasha’s teen years were tough, and they were, but Ebb’s are bad in a different way. He’s embarrassed by his cracking voice so he barely speaks, he spends most of his time in his room, and any emotions he has he seems to take out on his wall. There are dirty footprints to prove it. Baz grumbled about cutting off our son’s feet. I had to remind him that we’re not supposed to mutilate our children, no matter how much expensive paint they scuff.

As I’m chopping carrots for the stew, I hear another door opening, then the soft padding of Baz’s fuzzy socks. He wears them over his regular ones. Because of his naturally low body temperature, he still spends a good part of the summer in about three layers.

“Why is Ebb trying to break the house?” he asks bitingly, though he does sound curious too.

“I don’t know,” I sigh. “He doesn’t tell me anything anymore.”

Baz huffs and takes a seat on at the breakfast bar. “Me neither. It’s a miracle if he’ll say more than five words to me in a day.”

I chuckle, dumping carrots in the instant pot. “Lucky. I usually just get grunts.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “I wish he would just tell us why he’s upset. We’ve always told him he can talk to us.”

I shrug. “Well, we can tell him all we want but that doesn’t mean he’ll do it. You and I both know teenagers rarely do what they’re told.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” He leans over the counter. “At least Ebb and Tasha aren’t fighting super villains.”

“Or being a dick to their roommates who they’re in love with.”

He leans closer, a playful smile on his lips. A few silver strands of hair fall in his face. Baz was incredibly relieved when he first started going grey, but now the vain bastard thinks he looks old. I keep assuring him he looks distinguished.

“But it all worked out in the end, remember?”

I lean forward on my elbows. Our noses brush together. We may be in our forties but we still act like sappy teenagers in love sometimes. Old habits die hard. “That it did.”

Honestly, kissing over a counter isn’t the weirdest way of I've kissed Baz. Burning forest still takes the cake, thankfully. But it's still nice. Twenty seven years and two kids later and I haven't tired of kissing him. I don't think I ever will.

I'm so caught up in kissing my husband I guess I don't hear the front door close and footsteps approaching us.

“Gross,” a very familiar voice says. “You're going to get spit in our supper.”

We pull apart, and Baz sighs with a smile. “Hello to you too, Tasha.”

Tasha walks up to Baz hugs him around the shoulders, a big slightly shit eating grin  on her face. “Hi, Papa.”

“What, I don’t get a hug?” I ask with my own grin.

Tasha rolls her eyes. (Sometimes she’s so much like Penny it scares Baz, and me too a bit.) She strolls over, black curly ponytail bouncing, and squeezes me tight. I squeeze her back just as hard. “There, that better, Dad?”

“Very much.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “Hi, darling. How was work?”

“Boring,” she sighs. “One lady spent half an hour trying on different jeans and didn’t buy any of them.

“Rude,” I say as I start the instant pot.

“Retail is truly a trail of endurance,” Baz adds all philosophical. I snort.

“You’ve never worked retail.”

Baz glares. “Neither have you, Mr. Bag of Gold.”

“I was a barista at the college coffee shop though.”

“How good was that coffee?” Tasha asks with a little smirk. Baz snickers. She’s a lot like him too.

I glare at my snarky daughter. “Shouldn’t you being doing homework or something, little miss?”

Tasha glares right back. “First of all, I’m seventeen, I’m not little anymore. Second, it’s summer, so no homework.”

“Then go make some homework, I don’t know.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that, Dad.” She starts walking away, bag slung over her shoulder. “First, I’m going to get changed. Call me down for supper?”

“We’ll use the Alexis thing,” I call to her as she goes up the stairs.

“Alexa,” Baz sighs.

I wave my hand dismissively. “Whatever. Amazon talky lady that lets you play morose violin music.”

He giggles, shaking his head. That’s still the most beautiful sound I’ve ever head. “Well, that’s at least accurate.” He looks down at our slightly scuffed instant pot. “How long on the stew?”

I look at the bright blue timer. “Um, forty five minutes.”

“Good.” He offer his hand like the proper gentleman he is. “Want to cuddle and watch Great British Bake Off?”

I grin and take his hand, the metal of his ring pressing into my skin. “Absolutely.”

And I let my husband lead me towards our couch. But just as we sit down, we hear a loud thumping from the room directly above us. Baz winces slightly. With his super hearing it’s probably way louder. He sighs, slumping against me.

“We never should’ve gotten Ebb that bluetooth speaker for Christmas,” he groans.

I shrug, rubbing my hand over his stomach. He still likes that a lot. “Too late now. Let’s just watch the telly.”

Baz curls around me like an affectionate cat. “Sounds good to me.”

I hum happily and pull him closer “Awesome.”

I turn on our next Bake Off episode. We get so involved in all the cake and pastry drama we barely hear Ebb’s extremely loud emo music. I hope he’s alright. He does this a lot, shutting himself in his room and being angsty. Usually it’s over simple stuff we can’t fix, so we’ve learned to just give him his space until he calms down. But still, he’s my kid. I’m always worried about him. So I hope he’s okay.

———————————————

“Alexis, announce supper is ready,” I say. The stupid black tube doesn’t respond. How are these things supposed to make life more convenient? It’s more useless than my magic used to be.

“Alexa,” Baz calls out from the dining room, “announce supper is ready.”

The black cylinder of frustration rings this time. I frown “Why does it only listen to you?”

“Because I call it by it’s proper name.”

I grumble as I bring in the last bowl. Stupid technology, worse than magic.

Oh Crowley, I sound so fucking old.

I hear Tasha jump down the stairs. (She’s been doing that since she was six.) She enters the dining room, dressed in her Watford Lacrosse sweater and grey trackies, curls piled up on top of her head in some sort of bun.

“Mm, smells good,” she says as she sits down. She immediately goes for her spoon.

“Manners, darling,” Baz scolds kindly. Tasha frowns and cross her arms. She keeps reminding us of how old she is, but she definitely still acts like my little girl sometimes.

“Ebb?” I call up the stairs. “You coming down for supper, love?”

Soon enough, we hear Ebb’s heavy thumps descending. He’s been thumping around a lot recently. Baz jokes that our son is turning into a numpty, and I’ve made him promise to never say that in front of him. Ebb doesn’t need any more issues from us. He stomps in, upper body almost totally hidden by an oversized black sweater. When he sits, I can see his deep scowl. Well, whatever is going on definitely hasn’t resolved. Maybe we’ll talk after supper if he wants.

I put Ebb’s stew bowl in front of him. He grunts in acknowledgement, which is pretty good nowadays. Before I sit down, I make sure to kiss the top of kids’ heads. I’ve done it every supper we’ve had together since they were born. Baz says it’s cheesy, but still thinks it’s sweet. I just want Tasha and Ebb to always know they’re loved, because I never felt that as a kid and I wish I had.

So I lean over and kiss Tasha’s head. She groans with a smile. I lean over to Ebb, but he shifts away, crossing his arms over his chest. I try to hide the way that stings. Well, when kids get older sometimes they don’t always like their dad kissing the top of their head. Tasha told me to stop embarrassing her with it when she was fifteen. She said it was okay again a few months later. Maybe that’ll happen with Ebb too. I don’t know. I hope so...

I sit down, and Baz gives me a sympathetic look from across the table. I smile back at him, trying to say, “I’m okay.” Which I am. Ebb is allowed to do what he wants with his body, that comes before my feelings.

“Let’s eat,” Baz says grandly.

We all unfold our napkins and put them in our laps. (Baz has finally taught me manners over the decades.) All of us eat in relative silence for awhile. I don’t mind, I want to enjoy the stew. Ebb is somehow able to eat while still scowling. Did he learn to do that from Baz or all on his own? Either way, it’s impressive, in a moody teenager way.

“How was work today, love?” Baz asks.

It takes me a second to realise he’s talking to me and not Tasha. I swallow my beef before speaking. “It was good. Lily is finally learning how to make crafts without eating the glue.”

Tasha’s brow furrows. “Do kids really try to eat glue?”

“Oh yeah, lots of glue. And crayons. And dirt. And those massive LEGO bricks. It’s my job to keep them from doing it.”

“Dad, remind me to never become a nursery teacher.”

I give her a “really?” look. She smirks and continues eating. How did I raise such a sarcastic daughter? I blame Baz. And Penny.

“How was your work today?” I ask Baz.

Baz shrugs. He’s picked up on a lot of my habits over the years. “It was alright. Filed some reports, did a few conference calls, had leftover pasta for lunch.”

“Working from home is going well then?” Tasha says between bites.

“Definitely. No more morning commutes on the tube is wonderful.”

I point my fork accusingly at him. “But it also means you don’t get outside enough. You’re going to get even paler, love.”

He waves dismissively with a small smile. “Not possible.”

“We’ll see,” I laugh. I look over at Ebb, who is still scowl eating. I should try to make him feel included. “How was your day, Ebb? Do any cool moves at the skatepark?”

“No,” Ebb grumbles. Well, that’s the first word he’s said to me all day. Baby steps.

“Oh, uh, well that’s a bummer. I bet you’ll do more next time.”

“How are you doing on the half pipe?” Baz asks. “You told me you were doing well last-”

Ebb slams his fork down so hard the table rattles. The crashing sound rings out through the room. Baz looks very taken aback, and slightly in pain. Loud noises up close don’t mix well with his vampire hearing. Tasha and I are just stunned with our backs perfectly straight. Ebb glares at both Baz and I with rageful fire in his eyes.

“Why the fuck did you name me after a bloody Christmas Carol character?!” he shouts.

The whole house is silent. Honestly, I’m too stunned to speak. Baz and Tasha seem to be in the same situation. Ebb glares at us for another few seconds before violently pushing his chair away and storming off. He stomps hard to his room, then slams the door even more forcefully than when he came home.

We stay in stunned silence for another few minutes. I gape at Baz, mouth opening and closing like a fish. His eyes are wider than saucer plates. Tasha is just looking at her food, pushing around hunks of carrots.

“Well,” Baz finally sighs, “that was something.”

“Understating that a bit, Papa,” Tasha says, eyes flicked up. I just nod, mouth still hanging up. I’m still processing stuff.

“Thank you for the commentary, Tasha.” His eyebrows get all scrunchy. “Hasn’t Ebb heard about Ebb Petty around school?”

Tasha shakes her head. “Probably not. I didn’t hear about her until you guys told me, then in class. And learning about The Battle of The Mage has been moved to fifth year magickal history. Headmaster decided it was too grim for the younger kids.”

Baz scoffs. “Well, she has a point. But I suppose Ebb will need at least part of that lesson early.” He looks back at me. “I think you should go talk to him, Simon.”

I shake my head out, finally breaking the shocked spell. “Uh, wait, why me? You’re better at this serious stuff.”

“Because I gave Tasha the talk on her namesake. Now it’s your turn.”

“Could we rock, paper, scissor to do it?” I say with a strained smile.

Tasha’s eyebrows shoot up. “Do you two seriously ‘rock, paper, scissor’ on parenting decisions?”

“No,” Baz says immediately. But when Tasha fixes him with an accusatory look (she’s very good at that), and he shifts uncomfortably. “Occasionally. Not on big things. Usually on who has to help you monsters with the dishes when we’re both tired.”

Tasha shakes her head and goes back to her food. I was only half kidding, really. Baz looks back at me. “Honestly, love, you’ll be better at explaining this. You’re the one who picked his name, and I think you’ll explain its significance the best.”

I chew on my lip, drumming my fingers on the table. I’m nervous. It’s not like I haven’t had hard talks with my kids before. But I still get nervous. I never had parents growing up (the Mage does not count even a bit), so I don’t have any blueprints for this. I've read books and learned from others to make up for it, but I’m always scared I’ll mess them up by accident. Baz assures me I’m not, that I'm a good dad, but that fear doesn’t go away. And from the look on his face, he knows I’m thinking about that again. We’ve gotten good at figuring each other out over the years.

Baz reaches across the table, holds my hand and squeezes. You’ll do great, he says with just his expression. I let out a breath and squeeze back. “Alright, be back in a bit.”

“Alright,” Baz says kindly. “The photo is still in the upstairs hall.”

“Okay.” I get up and start making my way down the hall. As I’m ascending the stairs. I hear Tasha say something.

“Papa, was I this bad when I was thirteen?”

“No,” Baz replies, “you were worse.”

The following snicker tells me Tasha has thrown something (probably her napkin) at Baz’s face. I stifle my loud snort. Ebb doesn’t need to think I’m laughing at him.

I walk down the upstairs hall. Ebb’s room is right at the end. Before I go in, I grab a particular photo on the wall. It’s not the original polaroid, since Fiona wanted to keep it. But it’s a good copy. I’m glad we have it. I like to look at it.

I get to Ebb’s door. It’s covered in KEEP OUT signs he printed off the internet. I knock firmly, but not too loud. “Ebb? Can I come in?”

“Go away!” he shouts. I know he’s trying to be forceful, but his voice cracks, which takes away a bit of the impact. Do not laugh, Simon, don’t you dare laugh. You’re supposed to be a good father, dammit.

“I know you want to be alone, but I really think we need to talk.”

There’s a short silence, only filed with the faint sound of creaking springs. Ebb must be rocking or shuffling on his bed.

“Are you gonna yell at me?” he asks. He sounds so small and nervous. It reminds me that no matter how moody or rude he is, he’s still my little boy, who cried because he couldn’t fit all his plush toys on his bed and he didn’t want any of them to feel left out. He’s not some monster, even if he was being a bit of a brat earlier.

“No, love,” I say kindly, “I’m not going to yell. I just want to talk.”

I wait through another short silence with mattress squeaking. “Okay,” he finally says.

I open the KEEP OUT door and enter Ebb’s room. He covered it in punk and metal band posters a few months ago. A lot of them are from Fiona. She’s very happy to “finally have someone in this family with good music taste.” (Sixty four years old and she’s still as punk as ever.) Ebb is sitting on his bed, back against the wall, oversized hoodie over his pulled up knees. The hood is up and the collar is pulled up to his freckled nose. He looks like a black blob. His curly dark hair is falling in his face. It reminds me of Baz when we were teenagers. He’s even got the same sort of haircut. Part of me wonders if he found an old picture of Baz and took it to the hairdresser.

I sit down on the end of the bed, giving Ebb space but not sitting too far away.

“Hi,” I say with a soft smile, showing him that I’m really not going to shout.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks. He’s trying to sound normal, but I hear the nervous twinge.

“No,” I sigh. “Honestly, I’m a bit disappointed, but I’m not mad. You know Papa doesn’t like loud noises, and I wish you would have talked with us calmly without making a scene.”

He burrows deeper into the hoodie, looking down at his knees. “Sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” I shift a bit closer. “You get to be a pissy teenager sometimes, it’s normal. God knows both me and Papa were.” That makes him smile a little. “But I’m the dad, so it’s my job to reign you in.”

He nods and emerges slightly from his sweater. “Okay.”

I grin, putting my hand on the bed near him. “Good, glad we’ve got that sorted. Now let’s talk about why you were upset.” Ebb frowns and goes back into his sweater. Parenting is two steps forward, one step back sometimes. “I’m guessing something happened with your name. Did someone make fun of it?”

Slowly, still beneath all that black fabric, Ebb looks up with his big brown eyes. I can’t see his mouth but I assume he’s pouting or frowning. “Yeah...”

My heart breaks a bit. I can’t help it. I know bad things will happen to him, it’s inevitable, but it still hurts me when my kid gets hurt. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I-It wasn’t that bad, really.”

“Doesn’t matter how bad it was, love, you can talk about it.”

Ebb emerges more, his arms moving more into his lap so he can fiddle with his fingers.  “It was Dylan.”

“One of your Normal friends?”

“Yeah. He’s usually cool but he can be an arsehole sometimes.”

“Language, darling.”

He looks away. “Sorry, Dad.”

“It’s alright. So Dylan made from of your name?”

“Uh-huh. He asked me what ‘Ebb’ meant, and I said it was short for Ebenezer. Then he started laughing. I asked him why he was doing that, and he said he couldn’t believe my dads named me after the guy from Christmas Carol. I didn’t know what that was so I asked and he laughed at me more. Then he got everyone else to laugh with him. It was super embarrassing.”

I shift closer and put a hand on his knee. He doesn’t shove me off, so I keep it there. “I’m sorry, love, that sounds terrible. Kids can be really mean.”

Ebb blows air out his nose and nods. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that.” He shrugs slightly. “I don’t know. I just hated feeling stupid, y’know?”

I chuckle. It’s actually really good I’m doing this. Baz would do well, of course, he’s a great father, but this is definitely more my territory. “Yes, I really know that, darling. I completely understand. I felt stupid all the time as a kid.”

“Really?” he says with a surprising amount of shock. “But you’re so smart!”

“That’s very sweet, Ebb,” I say, still laughing a little. “But at your age, I didn’t think I was smart at all. I could barely speak properly, I needed Aunt Penny to tutor me in every class, and I was the worst mage ever.”

“I thought you were the Chosen One.”

“Yeah, but that was because of a prophecy and me exploding a lot. That didn’t mean I was any good at magic back then.”

He nods thoughtfully, similar to Baz when he’s reading. “Okay. That makes sense.”

“Glad to hear I make sense for once.” I move so I’m right pressed against his legs. “I really get why you were mad, Ebb. Dylan was being a jerk and that sucks. You’re allowed to be upset. Now I’m here to tell you something he doesn’t know.”

“Oh?”

I lean forward, a big grin on my face. “Dylan is a big dummy, because you’re not named after a Dickens character.”

Ebb’s eyes go wide, lips falling open. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I’m pretty sure I remember who I named you after.”

“Who was it then? Ebenezer isn’t a really common name...”

“No, it’s definitely not.” I motion at him with my hand. “C’mon, sit here. I’ve got something to show you.”

Ebb cautiously emerges from his hoodie cocoon, and sits next to me on the edge of the bed. He’s not pressed up against me but he’s very close. I flip over the picture frame. According to Fiona, she took this during summer break in a bar in Scotland. It makes sense. All three of them look properly sozzled in the photo.

“What’s this?” Ebb asks.

“Well, it’s a photo,” I say. Ebb knocks my shoulder.

“Oh for Merlin's sake,” he groans. “Just tell me, Dad.”

“Fine fine, if you insist. This is a photo from a very long time ago.” I point to seventeen year old Fiona’s smiling flushed face. “That right there is your Great Aunt Fiona when she was a teenager.”

“She doesn’t like us calling her Great Aunt. Says it makes her feel old.”

I snort, but it’s with kindness, I swear. “Yeah, that sounds like Fiona. But back to my point, that’s her when she went to Watford.” I move over to a familiar blonde man. The sight of his face doesn’t make my blood boil like it used to, but there’s a small ache. “That's her friend from school, Nicodemus Petty.”

Ebb’s face screws up. “Nicodemus? Really?”

“Yeah, and you thought your name was bad, kid.” He snorts and smiles. I feel like I’ve accomplished at least something. I bring my finger over to the last person. She’s grinning too, longish blonde hair falling in her face. Looking at her gives me a small ache too but in a different way. “And that, is Fiona’s other friend and Nicodemus’ twin sister, Ebeneza Petty. Everyone called her Ebb.”

I watch as Ebb’s eyes go incredibly wide. His fingers curl over the wooden picture frame. I let him take it from me. He holds it in his lap, staring at it. “That’s who I’m named after?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m named after a girl?”

“Yes, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Don’t let your Aunt Penny catch you talking like that.”

His mouth twists around with shame, so I think he gets it. He keeps staring at Ebb Senior’s face. “But, why did you name me after her?”

I knew that question was inevitable. I’ve been trying to figure out what to say in my head, but nothing really works perfectly. Oh well. Have to try my best.

“Well,” I sigh, “a lot of reasons. Biggest one was that Ebb was just a good person and I wanted to honour her. When I first met her, she was kind to me. She didn’t treat me like a Chosen One or a weird sort of Normal group home kid, she was just nice. I’d never had an adult simply be nice to me before her.”

“So, she was like your mum?”

I shake my head. “No, she wasn’t a mum. Ebb was just my friend, but she was a really good one. She listened to my problems and helped however she could, usually gave me advice and such. Sometimes she just let me hang out at her house. It gave me an escape from all the stuff I was going through. She let me just be a kid with her.” I sigh, mind going back to the memories of tea and little china goats. “I admired her a lot too, honestly. Ebb was super powerful like me, but she never let that define her. Y’know what she did for most of her life?”

“What?”

“Herded goats on the Watford grounds.”

Ebb starts giggling. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. She herded goats, lived in a little cottage on the field, made tea, and that was about it. But that’s all she wanted to do. Ebb never let anyone tell her what she had to be. She was incredibly strong that way.”

Ebb looks up at me, sadness in his eyes. “You’re talking about her in the past tense. Does that mean she’s dead? Like Grandma Natasha?”

I sigh, then nod slowly. My heart is aching a bit more. “Yeah, she passed away a long time ago, love.”

“How did she die? Was she just really old or sick or something?”

I wish, I almost say. But that feels a little too sarcastic right now. “Well, the whole story is a bit too long and sad for right now. I’ll tell you all of it one day. But essentially Ebb sacrificed herself. She saved your Auntie Agatha’s life and lost her own because of it.” I stare at younger Ebb’s smiling face in the picture. I feel a few tears well up and I push them away. “Ebb didn’t want to be a hero, and she never should’ve been put in that position, yet she was one in the end, i guess. Because she was too much of a good person to let someone get hurt.”

“Do you miss her?”

I look down at him with a small smile. “Sometimes. Not as much as I used to, but the sadness comes back every once in awhile. Just like Papa and Grandma Natasha.”

I don’t tell him that I’m honestly mostly angry. Ebb never wanted to be a hero, and the magickal world just wouldn’t leave her alone. She should still be here, taking care of her goats, living in her cottage, being nice to my kids the way she was nice to me. But she’s not. And that’s so horribly wrong.

“Dad? Are you alright?”

I look at Ebb, my Ebb, again. He looks concerned. No matter how pissy he is, he’s still very empathetic and kind. He’s a good kid. Maybe I’m actually doing a good job as a parent. Maybe the older Ebb would be proud of me. At the very least, she’d be very happy for me. All she ever wanted was for me to be happy, and I am. I put an arm around my Ebb’s shoulder, and he leans into me.

“Yeah,” I say quietly. “I’m good, love.” I look him in the eye to make sure he’s listening. “Now, I’m not telling you all this to guilt you about being embarrassed over your name. You don't have to like it any more or less now. And if you want to change it, that's totally cool. Your Papa and me want you to be happy, and if that means going by a different name, okay. We’ll always love you no matter what. I’m just telling you so you understand where Ebenezer came from and why we picked it. Also so you know,” I poke his nose, making his face pinch up, “that we would never, ever name you after a Dickens character.”

Ebb laughs loudly. It snorty and raucous. My heart soars. That’s a sound I haven’t heard in awhile. How I’ve missed it.

“Okay,” he giggles, “I believe you.”

“Good, glad that’s all cleared up.

He smiles softly, leaning his head on my shoulder. He’s getting taller every day. I keep whining about how big our kids are getting and Baz just rolls his eye and tells me to not be sad over the inevitable. Tosser. I know he’s going to be a mess when they move away.

“I think I’ll stick with Ebb for now,” he says half into my shirt.

I squeeze his shoulder and kiss his head. (Well, his hoodie.) “Okay. Whatever you want.”

Suddenly, he throws both arms around me, hugging me tight. I’m shocked for a second. It’s been awhile since he’s hugged me, let alone this hard. “I love you, Dad.”

Well, my heart has melted into my shoes. I’m reminded of what Malcolm told me after Tasha was born. He only started having actual conversations with me after her. Maybe he felt we finally had something in common. He told me that being a parent is frustrating and rage inducing at times, but there will always be moments that remind you why you wanted to be one in the first place. This is probably (definitely) one of those moments.

I hug Ebb back. “I love you too, darling. Always will, no matter what.”

We hug for a little while. I savour it, a small part of me wondering when this will happen again. I like hugging my son, sue me. Eventually, Ebb pulls back slightly. He wipes his eye and nose with his hand. I grab the tissue box and hand it to him. I may have unbreakable poor hygiene habits, but I can teach my kids better ones.

“Wanna go watch Doctor Who?” I ask as he blows his nose.

“Okay,” he replies. “Are there still ice cream bars in the freezer?”

I grin and stand up, offering my hand. “Yup. We should raid them.”

Ebb smiles and takes my hand. He holds on tight. So do I. I’ll let him hold on as long as he wants.

We go back downstairs. Tasha’s upbeat pop music is playing from the kitchen. I’m not surprised to see her spinning and dancing with a dish towel in one hand and wand in the other. Little fireworks burst from the tip in time with the song. Baz is leaning over the sink, just finishing up with the last pot. He’s pointedly not acknowledging the music, save for tapping his foot. He’s still pretentious as anything, especially when it comes to music. Our eyes meet. He mouths “okay?”, and I nod.

I feel Ebb let go of my hand and watch him walk over to Baz. He throws his arms around Baz and mumbles a “sorry, Papa” into his shirt. Baz smiles, hugging Ebb back and whispering what I can safely assume is him accepting the apology and saying he loves him. Both Baz and I say “I love you” as much as we can. He didn't hear it a lot growing up and I didn't hear it at all. We want to make sure our kids will never wonder if they're loved or not.

Ebb looks up at Baz, chin digging into his chest. "Dad said we could have ice cream bars while we watch Doctor Who."

Baz raises his eyebrow at me. I smile sheepishly. "Did he?"

"Uh-huh."

"I see. Well then, someone will have to go to the basement freezer."

Ebb frowns. "I got them last time. It's Tasha's turn."

"No!" Tasha shouts. "I did it last time!"

Baz looks to me. "Do you remember who did it last time?"

I shake my head. "No clue."

Tasha and Ebb look at each other. It seems like they're communicating via telepathy. Baz says it's a sibling thing, that I wouldn't get it because I'm an only child. I don't have to have a sibling to know it's fucking weird.

"On three?" Tasha says.

"Loser cleans the stove?" Ebb replies.

"Deal." She throws her cleaning rag on the counter. "One...three!"

Tasha dashes off. Ebb pushes off Baz and runs after her. "Hey no fair!"

We listen as they run through the house. I walk forward and Baz immediately pulls me to him. I relax instantly. He’s always a solid weight I can lean against when I'm tired. His arms are steel bands across my back. I sigh against his neck.

"It went well?" he whispers.

"Yeah," I say. "Some kid made fun of his name and made him feel dumb. I told him that the kid was a jerk, that I know how he felt, and he definitely wasn't named after the guy from Christmas Carol."

Baz chuckles, running his hand up and down my back. "We may be mad but we're not cruel."

"Exactly. I told him about Ebb so he knows where his name really comes from."

"Did you tell him the whole story?"

I shake my head. "No, just that Ebb was a really nice person I loved, who sacrificed herself to save Agatha. We'll have to tell him the whole story one day though, before he learns about it in class.”

“Yes, very true. Let’s hope Ebb will understand it as well as Tasha did.”

“He will. He’s smart, he’ll be able to handle it.”

“Agreed.” He slowly runs his fingers through my hair. It’s not as thick and curly as it used to be, but Baz still loves to do that. “You did a good job, love. A+ parenting.”

My grin spreads across my face. I’m not smug, more relieved than anything. It’s nice to hear that I’m not fucking up my son. And I know Baz wouldn’t outright lie to me to make me feel better. He really means it. I’m doing alright. I’m giving my kids good childhoods, far better than anything I ever had. That’s all I want.

“Tasha! I touched them first!” I hear Ebb shout, followed by jumping steps coming up from the basement. Tasha literally slides into the kitchen on her socks. She holds up the book of fudge bars in front of us.

“Got them, I win!” she says with the biggest shit eating grin.

“Cheater!” Ebb stands at the doorway with hands on his hips. I don’t say it, but now his hood has fallen off, and with his loose curly hair and tons of freckles (he’s got more than Tasha and me combined), he looks like a pissed off fairy. He’s so adorable. “I touched the box first but she grabbed it before I could!”

Baz and I give each other with a “are we supposed to resolve this?” expression.

“Well, we don’t know the rules of this race,” I say.

“Except that the loser has to clean the stove,” Baz interjects. “So compromise, you both clean the stove.”

“Papa!” they both whine.

I flick his ear. Baz flicks my side in retaliation. This is the closest to our old brawls we get nowadays.

“Let’s have ice cream and watch telly first,” I say, taking the box from Tasha. “Then we’ll figure out what to do with the stove.”

“Fine,” Ebb sighs. “Can I pick the episode?”

“As long as it’s not the library. That one gives you nightmares.”

He frowns, though it’s closer to a pout. “Does not.”

“Does too.”

I open the box and start doling out the last four ice cream bars. Tasha snatches hers with a chirpy “thank you!” and runs to the living room. She wants to grab her favourite spot on the couch. Baz takes one and kisses my cheek. Finally, I give one to Ebb.

“Thanks,” he says with a soft smile. I’m pretty sure he’s talking about more than just the ice cream. I put my arm around his shoulders. He doesn’t flinch away at all.

“You’re very welcome, Ebb. Always.”

He leans on me again, putting an arm around my waist. “Do you think the other Ebb would’ve like me?”

“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “She would’ve adored you.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. You’re amazing and strong and unashamed to be yourself. How could she have not loved you?”

He blushes with embarrassment, but smiles all the same. “Okay. I think...I think I would've liked her too.”

I grin, then kiss his soft, curly head. He doesn't pull away. “C’mon, let’s watch some David Tennant.”

We walk into the living room. Tasha is already in favourite corner with her feet on the ottoman. Baz is on the other side with his arm over the back of the couch. I sit next to my husband of course, and he pulls me close, rubbing my shoulder slowly. Ebb sits between Tasha and I, leaning his back on my side and putting his legs over Tasha’s lap. She tries to push him off but all that skateboarding has made his legs strong. Eventually Tasha relents with a huff. Baz gets the Amazon lady to dim the lights and start the episode Ebb picks.

We watch the show in relative quiet. Tasha makes snarky comments every once awhile, and Ebb pokes her with his toe, telling her to shut up. Baz calls them both annoying chatterboxes, but with lots of love in his voice.

It’s perfect.

———————————————

AN: Aw, what an adorable family. Tbh I just really the idea of Simon and Baz having kids. They would be good parents imo. And it's fun to explore in writing, cause I feel like both of them would have fears based off their own childhoods. I've done some stuff about that before and I like writing about it. Hope you all liked reading it. Until next time :D