#Trying not to think about how the memory is them being happy that Dennis is leaving bc it makes me sad for them and for Dennis

[r0b1ee]

Underrated chardee moment methinks

[blairsanne]

Try Therapy - Part 4: Shaken

For the @deanobingo event!

The Brokenwood Mysteries - Barnaby Buchanan & Reader 3160 words

Summary: Barnaby is diligently befriending you, and invites you for tea. When an unexpected event occurs, memories of your traumatic past come up, leading to both of you opening up about what you've been through.

CW: Mentions of therapy, ombrophobia, claustophobia, anxiety/panic attacks, breathing techniques, brief mention of torture, natural disaster (earthquake) and related destruction.

As the weeks wore on, you and Barnaby continued to have brief chats before he left in the morning and when he returned from his ‘work’. 

Barnaby continued to keep a log of these ‘pleasant’ interactions, quite chuffed to report on them to his therapist, who seemed pleased himself that Barnaby had genuinely made a friend.

One evening, as you were readying your bike to leave, he jogged out of his house with a book in hand. “I found it!”

“Hm?” You stood beside your bike, leaning it back against the side of the house again so you could face him.

“That book we were discussing the other day. About the- the librarian. It was just behind some others on the shelf.”

He held out the novel in question, part of a mystery series by an author you both liked. He’d offered to lend it to you the week before, but you’d completely forgotten about it.

“Oh! Keen, ta.” You turned it over in your hands, smiling as you skimmed over the description on the back.

“I really enjoyed it, like I said. Quite a change of setting from her usual novels.” “Hm.” “Do you get out to the library much?”

You looked up at him and your mouth fell open as you struggled with how to answer. “I- used to.”

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, confused by your discomfort. You were such an avid reader, he’d assumed-

“Oh! Right- with the-” his eye twitched as he fidgeted. “All those shelves in such a small space.” He gestured with his hands to indicate the tight space.

You nodded, pursing your lips. “Something like that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” “No, no worries. It’s not like I forgot I was claustrophobic.”

“Mm.”

He shifted his weight and rubbed the back of his neck, still feeling guilty for the oversight.

He’d not been great at socializing since the accident, and he worried he might run you off at any moment. Still, something had been gnawing at him for the last week.

He licked his lips. “Can I ask you something?” “Of course.”

“No- that’s-” You watched him close his eyes to try to stop his eye twitch. “I mean- I- I want to ask you to answer me honestly, even if- if you don’t think I’d want to hear the answer.”

“Oh…” You furrowed your brow slightly, concerned by what he meant by that.

What was he about to ask? About Betty? Would he ask if you thought he was crazy like the town did?

“Er- the answer is still ‘of course’, then,” you encouraged.

He made eye contact with you, his sheepish, vulnerable expression making your chest ache. “Did Dennis tell you to be nice to me?”

You laughed, confused. “What?”

“Is he paying you to- to be friendly with me, when you’re here?” He watched your amused confusion turn to hurt and horror.

“Of course not.” You closed your eyes, wincing, supposing that wasn’t entirely honest. “Well, obviously since it’s a job, I can’t be rude, either, but-”

You opened your eyes and looked up at him pleadingly. “But getting to know you and whatnot, that’s not- I’m just here to tend to Betty. Being your friend was just a…” You swallowed. “Happy accident.”

He let out a small, relieved laugh. “Right. Alright.” He looked away, wincing. “Sorry, that was a rude thing to ask, then.”

“No, I- I think I understand. When people are so unkind, normally, then, it can be hard to know if someone is pitying you or…” You trailed off, staring at the ground. 

Maybe you didn’t think a horse was your wife, but you’d dealt with weird reactions from others yourself on occasion. It was isolating, and you’d often felt frustrated that other people saw your trauma as an inconvenience to them. Like it was something you’d chosen.

“So,” Barnaby’s voice interrupted your thoughts. “In the interest of spending time together- as friends- I wondered if there was anything I could do.” He blinked unevenly as you met his gaze again. “To- To make my home a suitable place for tea or… what have you.”

“Oh, to- not trigger it, you mean?”

“Yes. You’ve been very accommodating, with the sink, and the car, and I thought I ought to- Er- make it easier for you to spend time here. That is-” His face twitched again. “I-in the spirit of reciprocity.”

The offer was deeply touching to you, and you felt yourself choking up even as you smiled. “That’s really kind. Nobody ever-” You held your fist to your lips as you looked away.

Barnaby waited as you took a few deep breaths before turning to face him again.

“Mostly it’s small spaces that set it off. So I like to be outside, or in a bigger room… Tall ceilings, like the barn… Or close to an exit.”

He nodded, committing these remarks to memory very seriously.

“But,” You felt your shoulders raising as you hugged yourself. “I’m trying to challenge that. I’m supposed to be practicing the things that make me uncomfortable. Apparently that makes them easier.”

You smiled somewhat self-deprecatingly.

Barnaby met your smile with a genuine one. “My therapist said the same thing. Wants me to try the hard things, a little at a time.”

“Right, exactly.”

“Maybe we could…” He licked his lips, feeling inexplicably nervous. “Practice them together.”

You lit up. “Oh, that’s smart! Then we can lean on each other if things get too hard.”

“Yes,” Barnaby’s voice held a laugh of relief now. “Yes, exactly.”

“Keen.”

You grinned at each other for a beat.

You moved to put the book in your bag. “I should probably get going. But I’ll start this tonight and let you know what I think.”

“Yes, of course.” Barnaby backed up, wiping his hands on his pants as he felt awkward again. “So- Do you think tomorrow you could stay for tea after…?”

You looked up as you got on your bike, thinking of your schedule. “Actually, I have an appointment tomorrow evening. But the next day?”

“Oh. Okay! Then, I-I’ll look forward to that, then.”

You smiled warmly at him, quite chuffed that he wanted to spend more time with you - Betty notwithstanding.

“Me too.” You licked your lips, giving him a quick lookover. “You’re a good friend, Barnaby.”

You watched his face flash through several competing emotions before he pursed his lips and gave you a nod.

Though he wouldn’t say so outside of his sessions, having a (human) friend to talk candidly with about all sorts of things had been surprisingly helpful and enjoyable. He hadn’t thought that shrinking his social circle to just his wife and brother would take such a toll on him, but he realized now that it had.

Not that he’d had much choice, given the way people thought of him.

“You too. See you in the morning.”

“Night, then.”

“Good night.”

--

Two days later, you found yourself sitting in Barnaby’s living room.

He had rearranged the furniture somewhat since the last time you’d been inside, and had suggested you take a seat on the sofa nearest the door, which afforded you a view out the large window to the early evening sky.

You found yourself glancing out of it periodically as he made several trips to the kitchen and back for the teapot, cups, and a tray of various biscuits.

“Too much, Barnaby,” you murmured, feeling guilty despite him having told you at least three times not to get up to help him.

He poured you a cup of tea, smiling to himself. “It’s been ages since I’ve hosted anyone besides Dennis or Amy.”

“Who’s Amy?”

Barnaby stilled momentarily as he finished pouring his own cup of tea. He carefully set down the pot, then sat in a chair perpendicular to you.

“I was seeing her about- er- everything. But…” Barnaby gripped his hands together on his lap, not making eye contact. “Well, you must have heard what happened to Jakob Deschler.”

You frowned, trying to recall the details of the Deschler murder case.

You knew from what Dennis had told you that Barnaby had briefly been a suspect because of his time at the clinic, but it hadn’t been him of course. It had been some counselor or another who you hadn’t known.

Oh.

“I’m so sorry, that’s…”

“That’s bad,” Barnaby confirmed matter-of-factly, giving a nod.

He took a deep breath and reached forward to take a biscuit. “Sorry; that’s not very friendly conversation.” He hummed in disappointment, silently wondering if he had ruined the whole endeavour.

“It’s fine,” you assured him softly. Then, wanting to lighten the tone, you mirrored his actions and took a biscuit. “In any event, it’s nice to be hosted so thoughtfully.”

Barnaby nodded, straightening up a bit as he put on his most congenial airs. “It is my absolute pleasure.”

You started telling him about a new book series you were reading, and it didn’t take long for both of you to put the thoughts of Jakob Deschler and his clinic completely from your minds.

Time passed easily as you discussed various books and films, and Barnaby was just describing an art exhibit he’d seen once in Hamilton when you both felt a rumble beneath you.

The tea set made a tinkling sound as it rattled against the table, and you looked up to see everything in the small home moving as an earthquake shook it.

You gripped the armrest of the sofa tightly, feeling like the air was closing in on you, your throat tight. Your pulse raced, your mind alight with terrifying, unhelpful thoughts.

“I can’t-” You ran out of the house, feeling like you were choking, clutching at your pained chest.

“Where’re you going!?”

Barnaby stared after you out the open door in shock, unable to follow you into the rain. He watched you fall to your knees on the grass, hyperventilating.

You couldn’t push the memories from your mind as your body panicked, reliving your trauma.

--

The earthquake had been one for the record books.

The city in shambles, you were one of dozens trapped in the rubble.

When the tremor had started, you had been on your way to your usual study spot in the city library. You’d watched someone’s pencil roll off a table, and instinctively thrown yourself under the one closest to you. The people who had dug you out had cited it as having saved you from further injury.

Still, when the roof had collapsed, you’d been confined there, surrounded by the broken pieces of your favourite place. Buried in a small pocket of safety, in the dark.

It had been too small a space to move much, curled over yourself and trying to avoid the jagged bits of glass, metal, plaster, and who-knew-what that had encased you.

You had heard the sirens, muffled, in all directions as emergency responders had triaged the devastation. You had heard the cries of others nearby, too. Some of them had gotten lucky, like you; some of them hadn’t.

When they finally started digging through the library for people, your voice was already hoarse from screaming for help, but you’d kept on, desperate for escape.

Your minor scrapes and bruises had recovered before your voice, so in the days following the event, you’d kept your fears to yourself; crying alone when your body had gone into panic mode every time you tried to sleep - curled up in the dark.

--

Barnaby grabbed his largest umbrella and paced a bit, making a whining noise as he screwed up his courage.

Finally, he stepped out into the rain, umbrella mostly shielding him, and ran over to where you were. “Please come back inside?!” He crouched near you, holding out another open umbrella.

You looked up at him, still breathing erratically and looking confused about what was going on.

“Deep breaths, right? Four, seven, eight.”

You took the handle of the offered umbrella, only then realizing that you were quite wet, and nodded.

Together you inhaled to a count of four - timed by Barnaby’s head bobbing - held it for a count of seven, and then exhaled for a count of eight. Immediately you felt more grounded in the moment with him. 

After a few cycles of this, he glanced toward the house, still deeply uncomfortable.

“Better?” he asked hopefully.

You nodded.

“Inside?”

You hesitated, but nodded as you shivered from the cold. “Sure.”

He led you back to the house, disappearing immediately to leave you standing alone just inside the door, sopping wet. 

You looked down at the puddle you were making, and memories of Barnaby’s discomfort with rain and leaks flashed through your chaotic mind, making you feel guilty. 

Your pulse raced again, fear and anxiety telling you that you were making a mess; that you were being a burden; that Barnaby wouldn’t want you here; that he would stop being your friend.

He appeared again, wrapped in multiple towels and holding out a large one for you.

“I’m sorry, Barnaby,” you sobbed, pulling the towel he offered against your chest and face. “You were just trying to do something nice and now I’ve forced you out in the storm-”

“No, it’s- It’s fine, you- You panicked, it’s-”

“When the house shook, it was just like that time and I-”

You felt his hand squeeze your shoulder, and you sniffled, looking up from the towel to see him staring back at you solemnly.

“It’s alright. You’re alright.”

He searched your eyes, not quite sure yet what had set you off, but knowing that you needed to come out of that panicked response.

“Deep breaths.”

His steady voice and presence had a calming effect on you, and you felt yourself grounding into the moment.

You nodded and started to dry yourself off, counting the timing of your breaths as you broke eye contact with him in shame.

He pursed his lips, letting go of your shoulder.

He felt a drop of water run over his skin and his eye twitched, suddenly reminded of his own discomfort once again.

“I’ll be right back. Going to dry off and change. I’ll bring you something dry, too.”

“That’s okay, Barna…” You trailed off, looking up to see that he was already leaving the room.

---

You stared down at the mug of hot tea you were cradling. 

You were sitting on the couch opposite Barnaby again, dressed in a pair of joggers and a “Brains Matter” t-shirt that were too large for Barnaby; gifts from his brother Dennis, apparently.

You had both dried off, and Barnaby had refreshed the teapot to help warm you up after your soaking.

A thick silence had fallen between you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, afraid of the judgment you were sure you’d read on his face.

Barnaby shifted in his seat, tapping his fingers against his lap briefly as he anticipated sharing what he was about to.

“When I was in the clinic,” he began, taking off his glasses to clean them despite having done so several times already since going outside.

You glanced over to him, surprised that he was talking about that.

“They, um- They would drip water on us. It was- well- literally, torture. W-water torture. That’s why I…”

You nodded. Dennis had told you briefly about Barnaby’s time at the Deschler Clinic, by way of explaining his many quirks. It occurred to you now that Barnaby probably hadn’t given Dennis permission to do that.

“I’m sorry,” you offered, voice small. “That should never have happened to you.”

“No,” Barnaby almost laughed in anger. “No, it shouldn’t have.”

He leaned forward to pour himself another mug of tea.

“But I’ve learned to move forward. Therapy is helping again, and having someone to-” He glanced briefly at you. “Having you as a friend.”

You nodded, pursing your lips. You held your mug up to blow on the steaming liquid inside, listening to the sound of the rain outside, muffled by the sturdy house.

“I suppose you’re curious why I ran out.” “You don’t have to tell me-” “It was the shaking.”

He settled into his seat, watching you intently.

You put down your tea, then proceeded to explain to him how you’d been trapped in the rubble during the big earthquake a few years prior.

“When the ground rumbled like that… I thought- It’s happening again. I’m going to get stuck again, and-” You shut your mouth and eyes, trying to fight the hot tears that rolled over your cheek.

Barnaby got up, grabbing a box of tissues from one of his side tables, and moved to sit at your side. He tapped your knee with the box.

You tensed at his proximity, but took a tissue to try to clean yourself up.

“But you didn’t get stuck again,” he reassured you.

You nodded, looking down.

“It was hard, but you got through it, eh?”

“Mm.”

“Just like how I was able to go out to get you.”

In truth, he was feeling a significant amount of pride for how he’d handled it, already planning to cite the experience to his therapist.

“I’m so sorry, Barnaby. I made you do something like-” “No, it’s fine-”

“I completely overreacted. My body just panics, and sometimes I can’t stop it. I feel so foolish.” You pressed the tissue against your eyes, covering your face in shame. “I’m sorry.”

Barnaby hesitated as he reached out, then placed his warm hand on your back.

“You needn’t apologize for that. Not to me.”

He felt the rhythm of your breath as you forced yourself to calm down.

“Friends help each other,” he reminded you.

You let out a small, laughing huff. “I reckon.” You finished drying your face, feeling a bit better.

You turned to face him, and realized you were much closer than usual. His pale blue eyes were searching yours, his genuine concern for you evident. You glanced at his lips and then down again, feeling your heart in your throat as you imagined kissing him.

“Would you like a hug?” Barnaby offered, unsure.

It had been ages since he’d hugged someone, and he worried it might set off your claustrophobia, but he had a strong urge to comfort and protect you.

You nodded, humming in mild agreement. You leaned into him, reaching your arms under his to hold him from your awkward seat beside him.

His own arms wrapped around you, pulling you against him even more as he rested his head against the side of yours. “She’ll be right.”

You nodded, feeling safer in his hold than you’d expected. For a moment, it was more than you could have asked for, wrapped in his warmth and scent like the day he’d lent you his cardigan. 

You relaxed, the painful knot in your back easing as your body accepted that nothing terrible was likely to happen for now.

“Ta.”

-----

Tags: @leonxrdosreign @i-did-not-mean-to @the-butterfly-blues @fortheloveofdurin @ichoosechoasandbeingqueer @missihart23 @gayles55 @spngingerbread21

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[lazywerebat]

hello again 🫶

i am the biggest sucker for angst and comfort

how would you feel about this, the lost boys x trans male reader who’s got really bad daddy issues

the type of daddy issues they make you find comfort in men, seek their love and approval for everything, just really bad attachment issues

so it’s just the reader and his daddy issues affecting how he is with the boys 🫶🫶

Losing My Mind !

Polyam! Lost Boys x TransMan! Reader With Daddy Issues

a/n; thank you for request! i think i may or may not went overboard with this but idrc cuz it was rlly relatable to write! i wrote it based of off a this very very relatable song to me! hope you dont mind that TvT!! also at very end i decided to turn reader into a vampire because that just came to me :))

word count; 6.2k

warnings; reader having bad daddy issues! reader having multiple panic attacks! reader having suicidal thoughts ( not mentioned but hinted )! reader being turned into a vampire!

“LEAVE ME ALONE”

you yelled as you slapped your room door and locking it. You could hear banging on door and yelling coming from other side.

You were laying on the floor in silence and fear, asking yourself over and over again ‘Why the hell am I here?’ and are you losing your mind? Your world has turned to dust ever since you came out to your dad, you thought he would be happy to have a son, you always heard from him that you were meant to be boy. How he would could you his perfect son and now when you are, everything turned upside down. You felt like no one was around, if you could scream you would but you couldn't make a sound. You knew you were slowly dying inside while tears were coming from your eyes and won't stop. You knew you would be like that all night until you heard a sound like someone is throwing rocks at your window. You slowly stood up, wiping away your tears, trying to looking like you weren't crying. You open window to see your four boyfriends waiting for you to come, shit you forgot you were supposed to meet them at boardwalk half hour ago. You didn't bother dressing up because you were wearing [band] t-shirt, jacket Dwayne gave to you, black ripped jeans and boots. At this point you didn't care how you looked around them you were happy that they were in your life and that you could trust someone. You hoped your dad wasn't in living room or near it, you were slowly coming down stairs trying to not make any noises until you exited the house. That went pretty well,

“Heyy baby!”

you heard one of your boyfriends call, you went to them and gave them all kisses and hugs. Soon after that you went to boardwalk as promised, none of them questioned why you didn't show up at promised time. They probably thought you forgot cause of your bad memory issues but what was important to them is that you were there with them. Boys and you were walking down boardwalk looking at many rides and many arcade Santa Carla has to offer. You would asked them if you could go to some rides, go to arcades or anything, which happily they would agree not questioning why you needed their approval in first place, they thought it was cute you asked them to make sure its okay with them. You were having fun until your eyes landed on your father, whose looking at you with either anger, disappointment or both. You didn't realise you went away from boys, everything was mute to you and that feeling was coming back. You didn't knew what boys seen in you and when they looked at you. You were sitting on floor, back against some building, head between your knees while arms hugged your legs. That question repeated in your head ‘Should I end it all?’ if you couldn't be free from all of this or boys seen a fighter in you not ready to leave with a burning desire to live. You felt a hand on your shoulder and someone speaking to you but you couldn't manage to hear what they said. Feeling of bare chest, hand stroking your back while other hand hold you tight made you realise you were in Dwaynes arms. By that you knew others were with you or they were near. You couldn't really see your surroundings as your vision was complete blur. You just heard him comforting you, making sure you were alright and yes or no questions. You closed your eyes as you calmed down, you went more into his chest seeking for more comfort and he happily gave you more. Soon you felt kisses all over your face, some praises and hand stroking your back.

“Is he feeling alright?”

questioned David, Dwayne looked up to him and nodded. David was glad you were doing better. After you calmed down you went to beach. You were sitting on Dwaynes lap as he was giving you kisses on your neck and cheek, David was next to you while Paul and Marko were in ocean, splashing each other and laughing. You watched as they swam in ocean which some people called life. You were always looking for an escape from everything happening in your life recently, you didn't know what that would be, maybe reading comics, drawing, reading or sleeping? You didn't know. Maybe it could be just staring at ceiling in your room as memories of your father and you flooded your mind, how you would have a fight, having good moment together, him teaching you how to properly use a gun and many many more. You were drowning and drowning in memories of your father and you that you didn't realise David was calling you.

“Hey Y/n. You okay?”

he asked while looking at you, you shaked your head to stop memories then look at him while nodding signaling to him your fine. He just looked at you to confirm it and you gave him a smile,

“Im seriously fine Davey, don't worry!”

you reassured him. This time he was one to nod, you didn't know if he believed you or not, you also didn't know if he was reading your mind. You knew that they were vampires, they told you themselves. You were looking around the beach until you spotted a father and a son having nice moment together. You had that feeling again like you were bounded in chains with a stone in youre chest while lungs were filling with memories, you were drowning in them so fast and it was getting harder and harder to breath. Boys noticed your behaviour and took you to cave, they probably read your memories and knew what was going on. You were this time in Pauls arms, David walking around the cave, Dwayne sitting on couch observing everything while Marko wasn't here, you didn't knew where he was. After some time he came with some bottle covered in some shiny gems or whatever they were called as he gave it to David who came to you. You looked at him,

“Come on kitten, drink up, be with us for eternity and forget him.”

he assured, as he was holding bottle in front of you waiting for your answer as everybody else. You didn't care, you knew you would be safe with them that they would protect you forever. You were still recovering from what happened at beach, so your hands were shaking but you open your mouth. You watched him grin while he poured liquid in your mouth as you heard cheering from others.

“We know exactly someone perfect for your first kill handsome.”

Paul mentioned as he held you and gave you kisses. You drank all liquid from bottle and smiled, David held your chin as he kissed you. You knew you were perfectly safe and protected with them.

[sky-fire-forever]

Happy Friday Dennis!! 🎉💚

I was thinking something for Handers tonight! How about:

“I swear you kissed me last night.” “I don’t even remember what the fuck happened last night.”

Thank you for the prompt!

My Hawke in this is Scorpius, who uses they/them.

Scorpius wakes up with the worst hangover they've had in their life. Their brain is pounding in their skull and they're pretty sure they're going to explode at any minute. 

“Oh, fuck,” they mutter as they sit up.

It's like the world around them is too fucking loud. They can hear the dog sitting at the edge of the bed, scratching herself and jingling her collar. They can feel the sheets against their skin and the sun they can see filtering in through the window is blinding. 

What even happened last night? Scorpius can remember inviting all their friends over, but after that, it's all a blur. 

They know they started drinking some of the bottles Fenris brought from his mansion cellar. They vaguely remember laughing with everyone, but the moment drinks started being consumed, everything started to get hazy. 

They rub their face with their hand, trying to force the hangover out. 

A voice from their right makes a noise. “Fuck.”

Scorpius looks over to see Anders sitting up from a pile of blankets on the floor. “Ow,” he murmurs, clutching his head.

“You too, huh?” Scorpius asks. 

“I didn't think I could get drunk anymore,” Anders says and he sounds so tired.

Scorpius laughs and immediately regrets it. “Fuck. How much did we drink last night?”

“Too much,” Fenris says from beside Anders, not even bothering to sit up. 

“You're the one who brought the booze,” Scorpius says. “What the hell was in those bottles?”

Fenris grunts enough of a fuck if I know sound that Scorpius gets the picture. 

“I half expected you to say blood magic.” Isabela stumbles into the room. “If the drinks were from Tevinter.”

Fenris groans as he sits up, shoulder to shoulder with Anders. “Blood magic would be better than this,” he mutters. 

Varric snorts from where he's laying on the other side of Scorpius’ bed. “I wouldn't go that far.”

“I would.” Scorpius forces themself to their feet, wobbling slightly. Their stomach isn't happy with how much alcohol they consumed last night. “Fuck, what even happened last night?”

“Drinking,” Isabela says. “Lots of drinking.”

“I gathered that much, thanks.”

Anders struggles to get to his feet, leaving Fenris behind him. “Uhg, I feel disgusting.”

As Scorpius looks at him, a memory pops into their mind. Chapped lips on their own, a hand in their hair, a body pressed against them. 

They shake the memory off. “Come on, I'm sure Orana will make us something to eat.”

“I think if I eat, it'll end up on your fancy floor,” Varric warns. 

“Water, then.” 

Isabela snickers. “Alright, mother hen. As you say.”

Scorpius manages to get everyone into the dining room, picking up Merrill and Aveline on the way through the living room. Everyone is at different levels of exhausted and hungover.

Every time Scorpius looks at Anders, the memory of his lips on theirs floods their mind again. They can't shake it completely off no matter what they try. 

Orana serves them a delicious breakfast that somehow goes down without any trouble, which Scorpius is incredibly grateful for. 

“This is delicious, Orana,” they tell her. “I could kiss you.”

They don't miss the way Anders’ face turns pink and he averts his gaze. 

Orana blushes. “Thank you, master.” She curtsies.

Scorpius still can't get used to her calling them that. She's a servant now, not a slave, but she sometimes acts like she doesn't know there's a difference. She still hangs around the house on her days off and the first time she dropped a plate, she'd gotten on her knees and begged for forgiveness. It's unnerving. 

She seems to be healing, though. One day at a time, becoming more comfortable in her new home. Scorpius is grateful towards her for all she does, both around the mansion and while trying to become their friend.

It's quiet as everyone eats, with everyone focused on their meals. Even the noise of utensils on plates is loud in Scorpius’ skull. 

“It's time for me to get back to work,” Aveline announces once she's finished. “Thank you for the meal. And last night was fun, I think. Let's never do it again.”

A round of laughter sounds out around the table. 

Varric stands up. “I think that's my cue too. Can't have Bianca missing me too much.” He waves goodbye as he steps out.

Everyone else follows out, one by one, until it's just Scorpius and Anders clearing out the dishes. 

“Anders, can we talk?” Scorpius requests after the dishes are set to the side to be cleaned. 

“Hm? Of course.” Anders looks at them expectantly. 

“Er, alone?” Scorpius glances at Orana before gesturing for Anders to follow them back to their room. 

Once they're alone, Scorpius rubs the back of their neck nervously. “So, uh. I swear you kissed me last night.”

The memory is so clear despite the haziness that surrounds it. The feeling of Anders against them, the way his hands tangled in their hair… 

It's all far too vivid to just be a dream. 

Anders’ face turns red and he looks away. “I don't even remember what the fuck happened last night,” he admits as he runs a hand through his loose hair. “It's all a blur after the bottles came out.”

Scorpius can tell by how Anders won't look directly at them that his words aren't entirely true. “Hey, it's nothing to feel bad about. We were drunk, it happens.”

Anders laughs awkwardly. “Of course. It doesn't mean a thing.”

Scorpius’ heart sinks. They'd almost wanted it to mean something, but if Anders thinks it didn't…

“Yeah, obviously.” Scorpius throws an arm around Anders’ shoulders. “What's a little kissing between friends?”

Anders sags in relief. “Exactly.”

“Good,” Scorpius says even as their heart pounds in their chest. 

“Good.” Anders extracts himself from Scorpius’ touch. “Now, I really should get back to the clinic.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” Scorpius steps back. “Last night was fun, though! From what I remember.” Which mostly includes the kiss.

“It was for me too,” Anders says and Scorpius gets the feeling they're both talking about the same thing. 

[matan4il]

Hi, you have probably been asked this many times before, so sorry about that.

But who do you think fell first.

Eddie or Buck? Even if they didn't realise it at first.

Hi Nonnie! TBH, I’m no longer sure if I was asked this specific question. I do know I was once asked whether it was love at first sight for them, which is I think as close as I got? My apologies if I’m mistaken!

I do think Buck and Eddie had a... an immediate attraction, even if Buck didn’t recognize it as such because his insecurities caused him to also feel threatened by how amazing he thought Eddie was. But they both showed a unique interest in the other, Buck being right away thrown off his game by how fantastic Eddie is, while Eddie himself is shown to naturally get away with all of his colleagues at the 118 (just like at dispatch), yet the only one we see him take an active interest in is Buck. So yes, I think there was an immediate interest and attraction. And then by the time they exchange their vow to have each other’s back, I think they were both feeling that they’re on the verge of something great, so I think at that point, they were crushing on each other a bit. Definitely on Buck’s side, who heard this amazing guy recognize Buck’s competence, and he more or less lost his head, along with his heart...

When does that turn into full on being in love? I’m not sure there is just one moment. It’s probably a thousand little ones, each one taking them deeper in, getting them to fall even more in love with each other. So here’s just a very partial least of moments that I think kept sealing their fate, causing them to take turns falling deeper and deeper in love:

Buck seeing Eddie’s son and the first hints of what a great dad Eddie is, so different from the parents Buck grew up with

Eddie realizing that Buck is trying to comfort him in the middle of this massive earthquake, that Buck cares enough about Eddie’s distress over Chris’ well being

Buck seeing Eddie and Chris hugging at the end of 203. His heart eyes couldn’t be more evident! It’s the moment when he fell in love with this little family unit, not just Eddie

Eddie realizing in 204 that Buck is there for him, someone he can count on, someone who’s stepping into Eddie’s mess with him and is actively helping him with Chris. Again, heart eyes seal the deal

Buck suddenly recognizing when talking to the elf lady there’s no reason to correct her, and happily hopping along to join his little family unit

Eddie grinding his teeth when Buck is crushed under the fire truck, rushing to his side and holding his hand, even though Chim and Hen would have been more experienced and better fit to take care of Buck

Buck being the most heart eyes ever, hands clutched together and everything, over Chris giving Eddie his firefighter helmet

Eddie fearing for Buck and trying to do something more to help him

Buck jumping after Chris into the water for both Chris and Eddie’s sake

Eddie finding himself in 303 verbalizing just how much Buck means to him and how much trust exists between them

Buck being emotionally stunned by Eddie’s words of trust

Eddie realizing last moment in the supermarket in 305 that something’s not quite right since he’s spiraling over not getting to talk to Buck

Buck hearing in that anger just how much he means to Eddie

Eddie’s perfect moment of contentment, despite memories from the Christmas before with Shannon, when he looks over to see Buck playing with Chris (and Denny)

And so on. Seriously, I’m only half way through to 310 and I am wailing. And I think they’ve kept taking these steps further and further into love in almost every ep we’ve seen, including the most recent 518, with them being each other’s happy and safe, healing place.

Thank you, I hope this sort of answered the question? Have a great day, lovely Nonnie! xoxox

(I got an influx of asks, I WILL answer all of them, but it might take a sec. If anyone wants to check whether I've already answered theirs or to read my replies, here's my ask tag. Thank you! xoxox)

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Dennis Rafkin

(Not my gif)(Requested by @bruciecaboosie​ )

(Matthew Lillard is like ...really attractive.)

- You and Dennis met through Cyrus. You worked as the mans assistant, putting together different aspects of his “missions” and taking care of whatever he told you to; oftentimes things he couldn’t be bothered to deal with himself. 

- It was during one of these “missions” that the two of you first met. Cyrus had only taken a few seconds to introduce the two of you before you were being ushered into the middle of the action. 

- As per usual, Dennis was swept up into one of his fits as the entity came closer which prompted you to kneel down beside him and try to see if he was alright. He quickly shouted for you not to touch him before apologizing, sounding a lot like he was in excruciating pain while he tried to calm himself. 

- You assure him that its okay before insisting that the two of you have to move, and quickly, before you’re right in the middle of the line of fire when the “bullets start to fly”. And thus, the two of you began to work closely with each other.

- Dennis has a habit of attaching himself to people quickly and you’re no exception to this. The minute you show yourself to be a fairly trustworthy and caring individual, the two of you find yourselves practically attached at the hip. 

- On top of him trusting you, he also sort of has a thing for you; something that’s becoming more and more apparent to him the more time you spend together, so that’s even more of an excuse for him to try and stick close to your side. 

- You’re on another one of your “missions” when he confesses his feelings for you. 

- The two of you had been hiding, concerned with not dying as a particularly dangerous “individual” wrought havoc on the rest of your team. He’d said that he had to tell you something, you asked if it could wait in disbelief, he said no, repeated the word and followed it up with a “I’m sorry, but I have to say it. I’m in love with you, okay? I’m sorry.”. 

“God, you couldn’t have told me that like an hour ago?” You scoffed incredulously but half heartedly.

- Well, of course you make it out alive; panting and frazzled but alive. You’re sitting across from each other on the floor when he looks over at you and; out of breath, asks if you want to go get some coffee with him sometime. You can’t help but laugh before you manage to pull yourself together and agree. 

- So, for your first date, the two of you go to a coffee shop, grab some hot drinks and walk around town together, talking and getting to know each other without the pressure of your boss being a few feet away. 

- The two of you share your first kiss a few months into your relationship since he; you know, can’t really touch people. You were sitting with him in his apartment after one of your dates when he asked if he could try something. 

- Before you knew it, he’d gotten up and walked over to you, leaning down and hesitating before softly pressing his lips to yours. 

- The kiss didn’t last very long but you didn’t mind; even if he was a bit disappointed in himself. You merely smiled at him and reassured him that you have all the time in the world to figure things out. 

- There’s not a ton of affection in your relationship for obvious reasons but the two of you try your best.

- You definitely have to take things slow and let him initiate a lot of what goes on between the two of you. Be prepared for him to pull away quickly or need to take a break for a while. 

- Soft, chaste kisses. 

- Quick, rough and intense kisses; usually after something dangerous happens to him and the both of you are just glad that he’s alive.

- Locking pinkies. 

- Him leaning down; most likely a bit awkwardly considering how tall he is, to press a kiss on your lips out of the blue.

- The two of you don’t cuddle but you do sleep in the same bed because you both like being able to wake up next to each other.

- Something tells me that once he’s used to you and your memories, touching you becomes somewhat of a solace to him. You and your life is familiar; compared to anything else he could encounter, so it’s like an escape whenever he touches you.

- He tends to call you honey, baby, or some kind of specific nickname that pertains to you/your relationship; usually when you’re alone.

- He has a habit of introducing you as his girlfriend to anyone and everyone. He just likes everyone knowing that you’re together right off the bat; he’s very proud. 

- He gives you quite a few compliments. Oftentimes they’re more on the teasing and playful side; i.e. him calling you hot, but other times they’re more sincere.

- Making each other laugh. He loves seeing you happy and knowing that it’s because of him.

- Meet your friendly neighborhood pushover. Dennis has such a hard time saying no to people; especially you. He may act all annoyed and be blunt; mainly because he’s annoyed at himself, but he’ll do what you ask.

- There was this time where you wanted a teddy bear or something similar and he thought that it was completely ridiculous yet, since he’s Dennis, he later bought it for you as a surprise. Now every time he sees you hugging it, or sees it laying on your bed, he can’t help but feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

- You can’t really hide anything from him considering with one touch, he can know your entire life story.

- Well, at least he’ll always remember your birthday and anniversary, right?

- Dennis doesn’t have a ton of money; Cyrus kind of fucked him in that regard, so he isn’t going to spend a fortune on you; because he doesn’t have it, but occasionally, he’ll get you a really nice thoughtful gift.

- On your anniversary, he got you a simple silver band with a little message engraved on the inside and you wear it pretty much everyday.

- Staying in a lot. Being around a ton of people that can potentially touch him, or accidentally walking near a place that people have died in, is a bit dangerous when you’re with him so the two of you tend to play it safe and make your own fun.

- Movie marathon and television dates. He’s not a huge fan of horror/thrillers but it’s sometimes funny to watch them just to see his reactions.

- Café dates; especially if you’re doing research for Cyrus together.

- Taking walks together.

- The two of you will go grocery shopping together and then cook yourselves dinner at his apartment. It’s a regular thing for the two of you; even though he himself isn’t the greatest cook.

- Wearing his sweaters. In a; sort of, weird way, it makes him feel closer to you.

- He doesn’t have a ton of friends or people that believe him when he’s talking about anything ghost related so when the two of you are together, he tends to ramble/talk a lot.

- Getting to learn and hear a lot about ghosts and other supernatural entities.

- Carefully patching and cleaning him up when things go haywire during your “missions”.

- Helping him explain things to people so that they can understand what’s going on before he has an aneurism.

- Giving him warning looks when he really needs to watch his mouth.

- He has a habit of acting like your dad, scolding you like a frustrated father would whenever you do the same stupid stuff that he does.

- As nervous and oftentimes neurotic as he is, he’s always quick to reassure you that it’s okay no matter what’s going on. He might not be the most patient but he tries his best to make sure you don’t feel bad or get too scared.

- Comforting him and trying to make sure he doesn’t blame himself too much for what happened during his time with Cyrus. “Funnily” enough, even though you were involved as well, he only ever seems to blame himself.

- Considering his ...condition, you’ll occasionally find yourself needing to try and comfort him while he’s having a “moment”. You’ll usually just stay by his side and make sure he knows that you’re there for him while he goes through the motions.

- Trying to help calm him down during stressful situations, he’s not the greatest at controlling his emotions.

- Making sure he has and takes his medication when he needs to.

- You’re pretty much the only person that he really trusts so expect him to be sort of clingy with you, only asking you questions and insisting that the two of you stay together when everyone’s splitting up.

- Do you know how much he wants to touch you? This poor boy yearns to be able to just hold your hand. Rest assured, whatever you’re feeling in regards to not being able to hold your boyfriend, he’s feeling it 100x harder.

- Sometimes you’ll just have to reassure him that you’d rather have a fucked up, abnormal life with him than a normal life with someone else; or otherwise without him. 

- And on that note: sometimes, he just really needs to hear that you care about him and that you think that he’s a good person.

- He’s an incredibly jealous person but it’s because he thinks of himself as a mess and believes that you’d be better off with someone else. He won’t do anything if he doesn’t have a reason to but the minute a guy seems flirty with you, he’s immediately at your side and being passive aggressive with them. 

- Overprotective. Dennis; to put it simply, has seen some shit so he’s constantly looking out for both you and him. It’s also helpful that he can; occasionally, see into the future and know when somethings going to happen. 

- There’s definitely a good few fights in your relationship, I mean, you saw how he can be. That being said, they don’t last very long. Usually, there’s a bit of yelling and him cursing; just in general not at you, before things are settled.

- He’ll apologize just as quickly; and neurotically, as the fight began since he usually doesn’t even mean to start one. It’s pretty easy to forgive him since; even though he can be a bit of a jerk, most of the time his reactions are understandable; as much as you’d like to not admit it.

- There's a lot of I love you’s in your relationship. If he can’t touch you than he; at least, needs to let you know how much you mean to him verbally, right?

- It’s going to be obvious throughout your relationship that Dennis is in it for the long run. He wouldn’t do all that he does; trying to overcome his psychic challenges, if he wasn’t so rest assured, he’s planning for a future with you.

[themurphyzone]

PatB Oneshot: Poor Unfortunate Soul

Summary: Brain doesn’t think Pinky would be a very good villain. Pinky decides to prove him wrong (but mostly he wants Denny's).

AN: I’ll be honest, Dark Pinky isn’t for me. So how to compromise writing a villainous Pinky with normal Pinky? Well...you’ll see. 

AO3 Link

Pinky gasped at the TV, crumbs of popcorn falling out of his mouth. Brain stopped chewing and looked away from the screen, unable to stomach the scene of Lupin and Sirius forcing Pettigrew out of rat form as he attempted to flee the Shrieking Shack. 

No matter how many times he’d seen Prisoner of Azkaban, Brain always found it uncomfortable to watch Pettigrew transform into a pathetic, sniveling human who acted like he hadn’t sold his own friends out to a homicidal madman.  

Sure, Voldemort was the villain while Umbridge was the personification of government corruption, but there was just something downright insidious about Pettigrew. 

Pinky’s eyes were blown wide open as Pettigrew pitifully tried to plead his case. The simpleton was always so surprised about this plot twist no matter how many times he’d seen this movie.

The more he pondered, perhaps Pinky was the exact reason he found Pettigrew worse than the larger threats of the Harry Potter world. The man played into the worst of rodent stereotypes with his cowardly and backstabbing nature.

But Pinky?

Not a single disloyal bone in his body. It was a lesson Brain had taken to heart after his disastrous second birthday. Pinky was far too sweet and simple to even think about betrayal. 

Tears flowed down Pinky’s face as Lupin transformed into an emaciated werewolf, so Brain discreetly nudged a pack of Kleenexes his way. Pinky flashed him a grateful, wobbly smile, then reached for a tissue and blew his nose. 

Pinky always cried at this part. And while Brain found the scene emotionally gut-punching too, he considered himself above displays of crying during movies. 

Mufasa’s death didn’t count. Dirt always lodged in his lacrimal ducts whenever he watched that scene. That was all.

Brain’s fists clenched as the cowardly Pettigrew abandoned everyone to die. 

Though his escape was an essential plot point for the rest of the series, Brain wished the protagonists could’ve caught Pettigrew and delivered justice for betraying those who called him a friend.

He knew how the movie played out, but Pinky acted like he was watching it all for the very first time. Sometimes, watching Pinky when he didn’t care what happened on-screen was much more interesting. Especially when Pinky insisted on not skipping Order of the Phoenix. 

Pinky hugged his knees, tail draped tightly around him as the Dementors attacked Harry and Sirius. The rest of the movie would be loaded with those undead abominations. Brain had learned from unfortunate experience that Pinky would have nightmares if he didn’t cut off the fear before it took root in his subconscious. 

Slowly, Brain moved towards Pinky, careful not to make a sound lest Pinky catch him in the act. He took a deep breath to steel his resolve, placing a hesitant hand on Pinky’s back. 

Pinky turned to look at him. 

“Eyes on the screen,” Brain commanded. It was easier to do this when Pinky wasn’t watching him. 

Pinky obeyed, humming softly as Brain patted soft fur. A long, flowing tail wrapped around a crooked one. Pinky sat up a little straighter. 

The Dementors wouldn’t haunt Pinky’s dreams tonight. Not as long as Brain had something to say about it.   

o-o-o-o-o

“-and I’m so happy Sirius and Buckbeak got away! D’you think I could ride a hippogriff? Why are they called hippos when they’re not hippos anyway? I don’t think wizards know their animals very well, Brain.” Pinky’s chatter continued into the ungodly hours of the morning. Only the people unfortunate enough to work early morning shifts on Saturday would be awake at this time.

Brain rolled onto his stomach, covering his ears with his pillow to block out all the extraneous noise. One con about taking nights off from world domination was that his body just didn’t want to sleep even when he was tired, and Pinky’s exuberance only amplified the issue. 

“Troz! Prisoner of Azkaban is my favorite out of the Harry Potter movies. But my favorites are also Sorcerer’s Stone and Chamber and Goblet...oh! And Order has Luna Lovegood of course! Love her! What’s your favorite, Brain?” Pinky asked. “Ooh, you shouldn’t lay like that. You need to breathe!” 

The pillow was completely ineffective as a sound buffer. Brain was sorely tempted to keep up his current position out of pure spite, but he had to give up and lay on his side so he wouldn’t suffocate.

“No favorite. Hippogriffs are fictional. Hippo is Greek for horse and does not refer to a hippopotamus in this context. You think cows cluck and chickens moo, Pinky. Now go to sleep,” Brain sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Perhaps he could trick his exhausted mind into believing Pinky wasn’t there if he couldn’t be seen. 

He had an urge to stay awake though. If his subconscious latched onto hippopotamuses, he’d just have that nightmare with the rich hippo couple and Rockefeller baby all over again. He shuddered at that memory. The pain and humiliation from that hippo-sized booster shot had been oddly vivid. 

“Okay. G’night, Brain.” The bed shifted as Pinky flopped onto his back. 

All was quiet. 

Brain curled into a more comfortable position, ready to drift off to a dream world where he was an emperor on a golden throne, Pinky was dressed in royal finery while leading a resounding chorus of We are the World, and all knelt before their authority. 

“Brain?” 

And there went the dream. 

“What?” Brain snapped. Part of him wanted to knock Pinky out himself, but that would require moving his arms. He didn’t want to move out of his current position.

“Just pondering. Poit,” Pinky yawned. “Before sleep ponderings. Those kinds are the best, Brain. Cause they get weird and tangerine-y. Bet you get those too.” 

It was true. When his plans weren’t derived from Pinky’s inane ramblings or current events, they were often the product of pre-sleep thoughts. While he wrote down all he could remember afterwards, the plans pulled from those tangents tended to be the craziest and illogical in hindsight. 

He tried not to rely on them too much, but if his conqueror’s block was high or creativity levels were low, he didn’t have much choice.

“Yes,” Brain confirmed. 

But his curt answer wasn’t enough to deter Pinky. 

“Cause I was pondering about villains,” Pinky said. “Like Pettigrew. Cause what if I had something that makes me a villain?”

As much as Brain wanted to dismiss the idea of a villainous Pinky due to the sheer absurdity of the concept, he supposed it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility either. 

But Pinky as a villain? A mouse who gave up his soul for the sake of Brain’s desires and argued against promoting harmful cigarettes to children? 

It was just ludicrous. 

“Pinky, you lack many prerequisites for proper villainy,” Brain said. “Except for the dramatics. That’s the only trait you have in common.” 

“Oh. Well, I could certainly try,” Pinky replied. 

Yes, and someday pigs would evolve and develop flight capabilities. 

If he were in a clearer state of mind, he would’ve argued out of obstinance. But right now, it was incredibly early on a Saturday morning and he wanted nothing more than to sleep. Discussions on villainy and world domination could wait a few hours. 

“If you can prove me wrong, you can select the next restaurant we’ll go to,” Brain yawned.  

Pinky rarely got to choose the restaurant, given Brain’s sophisticated palate, but at this point he was willing to try anything to get Pinky off his back. 

Then Pinky went from figuratively being on his back to pressing against it, his tail curling around Brain’s. Pinky’s jaw rested against the back of Brain’s head. The added pressure released a tenseness around Brain’s shoulders, one that he’d been previously unaware of. 

“Denny’s,” Pinky murmured, nuzzling the back of Brain’s ear. The sensitive appendage flicked. Nobody was around to witness that involuntary reflex, so Brain let it pass. “A Grand Slam with pancakes and syrup and bacon n’ eggs…” 

Within seconds, Pinky was out like a light. He wouldn’t remember this conversation, too busy thinking with his stomach instead of properly pondering with that fluffball of a mind. 

With Pinky’s warm fur against his back and soft narfs against his ear, Brain’s thoughts gently trickled away and yielded to peaceful sleep. 

o-o-o-o-o

Though it was probably noon by now, Brain still didn’t want to open his eyes. Why bother? No scientists to pester them, no leftover plans or materials to hide away so they wouldn’t be discovered, no tedious mazes to run on Saturday. 

Pinky had gotten up sometime before him, and the space beside him was empty, giving Brain room to stretch out in whatever way he liked.  

Then he heard a harsh scraping noise, like someone was dragging something heavy across the counter. That wasn’t unusual for Pinky if an object caught his short attention span for some inane reason. 

However, there was also the sound of laughter accompanying the noise. Pinky was giggly and bubbly to a fault, but this brand of laughter was different. 

Almost malevolent. 

A chill ran up his spine, but Brain ignored the feeling. Pinky’s evil laugh was still firmly in Saturday morning cartoon villain territory, he told himself. 

Even if he sounded a little too good at being evil. 

Apparently, Pinky had remembered the bet after all. 

Brain slowly opened his eyes, about to find Pinky and tell him to knock it off, only to find that it was much darker than it should be for daytime. But it wasn’t dark enough to impede his vision. When he looked up, he found a sheet had been pulled over the entire cage. He couldn’t see anything outside the cage.  

Pinky being secretive would surely spell disaster.  And it hadn’t been there last night, so Pinky was the only culprit. 

The wheel stood empty, a fresh oil can beside it. Brain rubbed his eyes, partly to wake himself up and partly out of disbelief. He was normally a light sleeper, but if he hadn’t heard Pinky maintain his wheel at all, then he must’ve had a deeper sleep than he thought.

He climbed out of bed and marched towards the unlatched cage door, though the corner of the sheet was pulled over it. He would’ve swept it aside, but an unopened cup of Rice Krispies with a half-empty bottle of milk, napkin, and spoon conspicuously placed next to the door gave him pause from leaving the cage. 

His stomach growled. 

“Well played, Pinky,” Brain admitted. A breakfast barricade to delay him? It was rather creative, not that he’d ever let Pinky know. 

The Rice Krispies made satisfactory snap, crackle, and pop noises as Brain poured the milk inside. Then he scarfed down the cereal, half-expecting Pinky to come in and drag him outside for whatever he planned. 

But Pinky seemed content to let him eat first. 

Once he finished eating, he dragged the empty cereal cup and milk bottle behind him. But even his simple two-step plan of throwing his current load into the garbage and finding Pinky were laid to waste the moment he set foot outside the cage. 

For Pinky had unleashed his inner interior designer and completely transformed the room in such a short timeframe.

Large, sweeping blackout curtains covered the windows, even the skylight. According to the digital clock atop the TV, it was 12:30 in the afternoon. But if Brain didn’t know any better, he would’ve believed it was midnight. 

No wonder he’d been so inclined to sleep in. 

Long strands of Christmas lights hung on each dark blue wall, which was otherwise untransformed. Other than the digital clock, they were the only available light source. But rather than their usual festive association, the unblinking reds, greens, and blues lent a rather ominous, otherworldly quality to the room.  

Brain dispelled the fear. It was irrational when he’d traversed the dark lab at night a million times before. 

Perhaps he was focusing too hard on dumping the leftover milk into the sink. With absolute concentration, he pushed the empty cup and bottle over the counter’s edge and into the garbage can below. 

As he backed away from the edge, he saw a large mixing bowl with a stepladder set by it. Wisps of steam rose from the inside of the bowl. This must’ve been the source of the scraping sound he’d heard earlier. Curious, Brain climbed the stepladder and peered inside. 

It was just warm water though. 

He tried not to feel too disappointed. But even if it was mundane right now, surely it had to be here for a reason, right?

Or Pinky didn’t have any reason at all and he just wanted to fill a mixing bowl with boiled water. Both options were possibilities.

As he continued his search for Pinky, he walked past rows upon rows of test tubes filled with brightly colored substances. Electric green, dreadful purple, deceptively calm cerulean…

He wasn’t sure what kind of chemistry experiments they were running, but he wished someone had enough sense to label the test tubes.

Beakers and tubing distorted his reflection, a prickling sensation traveling down his spine and forcing his fur to stand on end. He smoothed it down so he didn’t bear a passing resemblance to a cotton ball. The slightly colder than normal temperature wasn’t helping. 

The distortion was simply a natural refraction of light passing through liquids. That’s all. There was no reason to get worked up over natural phenomena.

That didn’t stop him from leaping back when a wide, smiling human face suddenly appeared as he navigated a sea of flasks. 

His heart threatened to leap out of his chest, his breaths growing heavier.  

There weren’t any humans in the lab right now, he reminded himself. And the smiling face was frozen and unmoving. It wasn’t real. 

Brain cautiously poked his head around the flask, keeping it as a buffer between himself and the unknown threat. 

Against the wall, several of Pinky’s Barbie and Ken dolls sat in a row. The one whose face appeared on the flask was on the far left, her blonde hair in a ponytail. All of the dolls were in colorful swimwear. One of the Ken dolls had a pair of sunglasses perched on his head. 

The dolls were normal. No creepy alterations or missing body parts. 

But as Brain approached and inspected the dolls closely, their positioning seemed...odd.

Yes, their plastic visages displayed smiles as if they were en route to a Miami beach party, but their arms were stretched above their heads or out to the sides in warning. Their legs laid flat against the ground. Duct tape trapped their legs to the ground and wrapped against their torsos, sticking them firmly to the wall and preventing them from falling over. 

An interesting choice for decor, to say the least. 

But enough was enough. Time to find Pinky and force a coherent explanation out of him. 

One of the Barbie's arm pointed to the back of the room, so Brain followed her instruction. It led him straight to Pinky’s dollhouse, and Brain cursed himself for being so taken in with the environment that he’d neglected to check one of Pinky’s favorite toys. 

The pink plastic door was wide open, a deadly invitation into danger. Brain’s ears pricked as a song floated through the air. 

��Things are working out according to my ultimate design,

Soon I’ll have that little rodent and the planet shall be mine!”  

The melody was accompanied by a sinister cackle. 

Brain wanted to barge in and demand Pinky to cease his foolishness immediately, but his fingers curled against the doorframe instead, urging him to heed caution. 

“I can hear you!” Pinky singsonged from behind a section of dollhouse that was curtained off with jingling Mardi Gras beads. “Won’t you come inside so we can talk properly?” 

Brain rolled his eyes, sweeping the bead curtain away. “Pinky, I’m aware of our deal, but this is rather excess-” 

Then his mind registered the scene that lay before him. 

Pinky perched on a stool in front of a mirror as he applied a red coating of lipstick. That wasn’t unusual for him. 

But he was also clad in a backless floor-length dress with thigh-high slits. The dress was dark as night, leaving his shoulders and arms exposed. His fur was dyed a light lavender, save for his messy white tuft, which was gelled so that it stood straight up.

A small seashell necklace sat just above the low cut dress, purple earrings hanging from each ear. Pinky didn’t turn around, blinking coyly at Brain in his reflection, which sported heavy blue eyeshadow. 

He set the lipstick down, and Brain stared at the enchanting movement of manicured, polished red nails as deft fingers picked up a small brush and dipped it into a makeup kit. Then Pinky applied a beauty mark next to his lips.

The next thing out of Brain’s mouth was a very intelligent ‘um’. 

“You shouldn’t lurk in doorways,” Pinky purred, his voice low and sultry. “It’s very rude. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?” 

She didn’t have time to teach him a lot of things, given his kidnapping at an early age, but that wasn’t the point.  

“Why in Ptolemy’s name are you Ursula out of all villains?” Brain asked, once his voice came back. 

At least it explained why Pinky had redecorated the room to resemble an underwater cavern that doubled as a villainous lair. It was an excellent use of space. 

And the Barbies and Kens...those were the stand-ins for the helpless sea polyps.

Pinky must’ve been deriving a lot of satisfaction at seeing that realization dawn on Brain. 

“Why not?” Pinky shrugged. He puckered his lips and kissed his reflection, leaving a red lip-shaped mark behind. “Besides...isn’t there something you’re after? Something you want oh so very much, but haven’t been able to get?” 

Brain scowled. “You know perfectly well that I’m trying to rule the world, Pinky.” 

Pinky snapped his fingers. “And that’s what I can help you with! The only way to get what you want...is to become a human yourself.” 

Well, he’d never considered that before in the pursuit of world domination. There was something about manipulating his genetic code and changing his species that didn’t sit well with him, even though he detested the challenges that came with being a lowly lab mouse.

But it made sense. 

Humans only respected humans. Becoming a member of the dominant species would be an asset for sure! 

But Pinky didn’t have the means to make that happen...right? 

“You don’t know how to manipulate mouse DNA into a human one,” Brain said. 

“Oh my dear, sweet Brain,” Pinky crooned as he stood up, slinking over to Brain. Brain crossed his arms, forcing himself to stare Pinky straight in the eye and not show any signs of yielding. He made a point out of not watching those sashaying hips and tail. “Helping poor, unfortunate mice like yourself is my one passion in life! Why, without it, I’ll have to slink away and become a crazy cat lady! And then who will those poor souls turn to?” 

“A glass of alcohol, I presume,” Brain replied. 

Pinky’s tail came to rest around Brain’s shoulders. The tip tickled Brain’s nose, and he held it away from his face as Pinky pulled him out of the dollhouse and back to the tied up Barbie and Ken dolls. “Maybe, maybe...but a real person they can lean on, I mean. One that knows a little...magic.” 

He flicked his finger at a beaker filled with a lavender substance. The beaker sailed through the air, dumping its contents into the mixing bowl. A purple haze rose from the bowl. 

“That’s telepathy, not-” 

Pinky gently pressed a finger to Brain’s mouth to hush him. “Oh, ye of little faith,” he scolded. “It’s true that I did some rather — how would you phrase this gently — unsavory things before. But I’ve repented! Turned over a new leaf! Seen the light! And now I use my talents for those lonely and miserable enough to seek my services.” 

Then Pinky moved away from Brain, flicking his tail against Brain’s nose to direct his attention to the wall. Pinky wrapped his arm around the Barbie with a red polka-dotted bikini. “You see, Barbie here grew up where she didn’t have much opportunity. Poor girl had to work two jobs to make ends meet, and hardly a cent to show for it! So I offered her a chance to get away from it all...and she took it.” 

Brain gulped as Pinky moved onto the Ken doll next to Barbie. He was awfully convincing, even when the subject in question was inanimate. Pinky played with the ascot around Ken’s neck. “And this young man? Well, he wasn’t having much luck with the ladies. So I gave him a few pointers, maybe a knickknack or two to help speed things along. However…” 

Pinky indicated the tape that bound the dolls to the wall. “I wouldn’t worry about this too much, since you’re a mouse of your word, but sometimes...they couldn’t pay me back in time. So I found a different way to collect their debt.” 

“Yes, I’m sure you have much to gain from restraining children’s toys,” Brain said, tilting his head up to hide his uneasiness. 

They looked less marketable and more like hapless victims wallowing in despair, despite their smiling faces. He chalked it up to the wall’s resemblance to a dimly lit marine cave. 

“Oh, I get some odd complaints every now and then,” Pinky shrugged. “But alas, that’s what happens in this business.” 

He plucked a purple sash from Barbie and wrapped it around his head, fluttering his eyelashes innocently. 

Not that he was fooling Brain. 

But he didn’t have time to process that nonverbal gesture, for Pinky threw the sash around Brain, his tail looping around Brain’s waist. With the sash locking his arms against his sides, he was helplessly corralled to the mixing bowl. He dug his feet into the surface beneath him, but it was no use. Pinky was far stronger than he. 

In physical terms of course. He tried to keep his eyes on Pinky’s face and not his...well, he was a male mouse...he didn’t have...unless he padded...

Stop, Brain. 

A finger slipped under Brain’s chin, tilting his head up. “Not to worry,” Pinky purred, and the room suddenly went from cold to sweltering. “I have your solution right here.” 

To emphasize his point, blue and green test tubes poured their contents into the bowl. The colors melded together, the resulting haze forming a rough image of the world. 

“Here’s the deal. I’ll make a potion that can turn you into a human for three days,” Pinky declared, dragging his finger along Brain’s chin. Now that Pinky’s grip had loosened, Brain ripped the sash out of Pinky’s hands and threw it aside. 

The stroke of Pinky’s finger along Brain’s fur was enticing, and he pushed it away exactly for that reason.  

“Before sunset on the third day, you’ve got to find someone of royal blood,” Pinky said. A golden liquid swirled out of a beaker and formed a crown in the center of the world. It was an image of which Brain had dreamed of for so long. He tried to touch it, but it was far out of reach for him. “Then this charming person has to fall in love with you.” 

That sounded...feasible. Three days was a rather generous deadline. Most of the time, they were on a time crunch between eight to twelve hours.  

Pinky produced a pink felt heart and held it between two fingers. “Then you have to seal your love with a kiss. And not just any old peck on the cheek, but a kiss of true love.” 

A what? 

Brain huffed. Of course this plan would have such a ridiculous stipulation. He’d gotten his hopes up for nothing. 

...and why was he treating this like it was real? 

Because Pinky. 

Yes, that was the only explanation. And not even a rational one. 

“Oh dear, don’t pout so,” Pinky smirked. The expression was fogging up Brain’s mind. “What else is there to seal amour but with true love’s kiss? It’s a tried and true method, after all.” 

He chuckled at his own joke. Brain rolled his eyes. 

“If this certain someone kisses you by sunset on the third day, you’ll have the world permanently. But if they don’t, you turn back into a mouse.” 

Pinky tossed the felt heart into the mixing bowl, the solution emitting a pink puff of smoke. 

“And you belong to me.” 

A dangerous edge crept into Pinky’s tone as he whispered into Brain’s ear, and the appendage fluttered uncontrollably until Brain forcefully snatched it to cease its movement. 

Pinky tossed a hair tie, penny, and eraser nub into the mixing bowl, then leaned against a long pencil case as he awaited Brain’s reply. 

“Suppose I agree to your deal. What then?” Brain asked. 

“Well, there’s the matter of payment,” Pinky admitted. He stretched his lower limbs and tail as he rolled onto his stomach, exposing his long lavender-dyed legs. Brain tried not to watch the motion too closely for fear of hypnotism. “If you want something so badly, something of equal value has to be given. Equivalent exchange, as they say.” 

“And what exactly do you want?” Brain asked, though he knew the answer. 

He’d seen the movie. 

“Your voice.” 

Pinky’s smile was too wide and manic for Brain’s comfort. 

“In other words...” Pinky hummed as he leaned forward, his nose was just an inch away from Brain. “...no more talking, singing, zip!” 

He popped the consonant and mimed zipping his mouth, throwing away an invisible key.  

It was so warm that Brain couldn’t feel his face. 

“Now, now. Don’t be alarmed, Brain.” Pinky stretched luxuriously as he stood up. His tail slinked around Brain’s waist again. “You have your pretty face. And you shouldn’t underestimate the importance of...body language.” 

Pinky’s hip bumped into Brain’s, his leg sliding all the way out of the slit of his dress. He batted his eyelashes and blew a kiss to an invisible audience. 

Brain covered his face, ears flat against his back. He was fine. Just had to think about...something. What was he trying to picture exactly? 

No mathematical formula could save him from the horror that was stupid, sexy Pinky. Curse those mathematical miscreants! They abandoned him in his time of need!

Pinky climbed up and down the stepladder, tossing chemicals and liquids and all sorts of things inside. The bowl rocked back and forth dangerously, bubbles spilling down the sides. 

Brain didn’t dare get close. The inside of the bowl surely were an unholy abomination. 

But that didn’t stop Pinky. 

“Now a dash of zort, a sprinkle of poit! Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble! Fire burn and cauldron bubble!” Pinky cackled, throwing his arms up in the air. “Abracadabra troz! Bibbidi bobbidi narf!” 

The mixture now to his satisfaction, Pinky flicked his finger at a notepad and pen, sending them hurtling towards Brain. 

“Just sign on the dotted line, you poor unfortunate soul,” Pinky said.

Well...playing along couldn’t hurt. Even when there was a biohazard right in front of him. 

And no, the bowl’s contents weren’t the biohazard here. 

Brain took a deep breath and signed his name. 

The moment he finished, the notepad and pen flew out of his hands and into the bowl. 

Pinky wiggled his fingers over the bowl, green smoke rising to the ceiling and seeping past the edges of the blackout curtains to the outside. No smoke detectors went off, though Brain wasn’t surprised. ACME was rather lax on safety protocols. 

“Beluga sevruga, come winds of the Caspian Sea! 

Larengix glaucitis

Et max laryngitis

La voce to me!”

With a wide grin that spread from ear to ear, Pinky climbed down the stepladder and placed one hand on his seashell necklace, the other tickling the base of Brain’s neck. Brain ducked his head instinctively to stop the ticklish sensation, trapping Pinky’s hand under his jaw.

“Now sing.”

It was rare that Pinky commanded. Brain hated taking orders, yet something compelled him to obey.

Those coy blue eyes demanded, so Brain willingly gave.

And he sang.

Though he was hoarse from surprise at first, Pinky’s finger traced the outline of his neck, up his chin, to the corner of his mouth. Brain imagined his voice growing stronger...could see his voice taking physical form, flowing out of him and into Pinky’s seashell necklace.

Pinky doubled over in laughter as an explosion rocked the counter. The bowl sparked and smoked, its base clattering against the surface with loud metallic bangs. 

Brain broke out of his trance as a sludge-like wave with various melted objects slithered down the rim, creeping ever closer. 

He wasn’t taking any chances. 

Grabbing his maniacally howling companion by the arm, Brain quickly bopped him over the head to halt the laughter, then dragged him over to the window for a quick escape. Pinky recovered from the bop and shimmied past the blackout curtain. Brain took a moment to collect the ACME credit card he’d pilfered from an employee several weeks ago, then followed Pinky onto the windowsill. 

Pinky jumped first, safely landing in the bushes below. Holding the credit card above his head, which was no easy feat since the card was about the same size as him, Brain jumped as an explosion rocked the building, and his ears flattened instinctively to shield him from the worst of the noise. 

As predicted, he landed in Pinky’s arms. 

And it was somewhat mortifying now that Pinky’s eyes had gone from coy to blindingly innocent, even with the heavy eyeshadow. Shoving the card between himself and Pinky’s face, Brain climbed out of his arms. 

“Narf! So how’d I do, Brain?” Pinky asked. “Was I convincing?” 

Brain dusted off a bit of lavender dye that had rubbed onto his arm. He hoped it was fur-friendly. “You created a dangerous biohazard, toyed with my perception of reality, and overall you were a flirtatious nuisance.” 

Pinky’s tail stopped wagging. 

“So yes. You were indeed a convincing villain,” Brain said. He tapped the credit card. “And to fulfill the conditions of our original deal, I shall now treat you to Denny’s.” 

He was a mouse of his word. 

“Hoorah!” Pinky cheered. He twirled around in excitement, his black dress swirling around him as he danced all the way to the sidewalk. “Let’s go, Brain! I wanna look at all the lovely pictures on their menu!” 

“You’re going like that?” Brain called after him. Didn’t he want to change out of the Disney villainess ensemble? 

“Well you’re naked! So there!” Pinky stuck his tongue out at him. 

With a sigh, Brain joined his companion on the sidewalk. Pinky skipped over to a patch of white flowers blooming next to the sidewalk, gently cupping the petals and cooing at a ladybug which landed on a blade of grass next to his foot. 

Truly a convincing villain. 

And Brain’s poor unfortunate soul was helpless under his power. 

End AN: I deny selecting Poor Unfortunate Souls over other villain songs specifically for the body language line. You can’t prove anything. 

I HC that Brain would hate Pettigrew more than any other Harry Potter character. I was trying to write a villainous Pinky...somewhere along the way he turned into Pinky Suavo. I don’t get it either XD

There's some folks taking care of the biohazard the mice left behind. Don't worry, the lab's still standing. It's just their problem while the mice get Denny's. 

[woulddieforperrytheplatypus]

What're some of your favorite moments between Doof and Perry during Phineas and Ferb?

You have absolutely no idea how fucking long I spent making this video fhdsjahkjaf I’m gonna gush under the cut about why I liked each one so y’all don’t have to deal with me if you don’t want to lol

These are in no particular order. They’re just numbered to line up with the reasoning. I added lil descriptions to each of them but you’ll probably have to either watch the video first or have a pretty good memory of the show to understand them lol

1. “Dr. Wexler, you’re a platypus?” (A Hard Day’s Knight)

Literally just the way he says, “Dr. Wexler, you’re a platypus?”

2. “Is every platypus named Perry?” and then Perry bites him (AT2D)

M O N C H (also Heinz calls him cute) (also also “We do not bite the elderly!”)

3. Perry tries to fly him and Heinz home from the desert but Heinz flips the turbo switch and they lose the jetpack (Road to Danville)

“Like you didn’t know about my switch-flipping compulsion!” They’re literally an old married couple omfg I can’t even (also moment of appreciation for the fact that they’re close enough that Heinz just assumes Perry knows about his switch-flipping compulsion) (another moment of appreciation because Perry probably does)

4. The end of the Perry/Doof subplot of Terrifying Tri-State Trilogy of Terror

First of all, the way Perry decides to run under his giant floating head when going around would take two extra seconds? Beautiful. And, of course, Perry’s fucking smirk because that’s just not his problem lmaooo

5. The pause in the FIGHT FIGHT IT’S A PLATYPUS FIGHT (Doofapus)

I love that they literally just stop mid-fight to have tea. I firmly believe there is no other pair of nemeses that would do that and this is just how Heinz and Perry work. Also, Perry’s smile? He feels so understood? It’s so pure?

6. Vanessa lets Perry in before he can break down the door with his rocket launcher and then Perry accidentally shoots it through the wall (My Sweet Ride)

“This is why I can never have anything nice -_-”

7. Heinz doesn’t trap Perry (Road to Danville)

He’s so confused fjdahfksdhfak he literally goes out of his way to get trapped at that point (even if he pretends he doesn’t) and Heinz flipped the script on him without telling him and his lil shrug is so cute and I just jsfhkjadhsk

8. There’s a Platypus Controlling Me (Brain Drain)

You had to know this one was gonna be there

9. “In your letters, you said your nemesis was a suave, semi-aquatic personification of unstoppable dynamic fury” (Oil on Candace)

The fact that Heinz sent his ex-professor a letter gushing about his nemesis is just *chef’s kiss*

10. Perry and Dennis are fighting in giant puppets in the street and Heinz recognizes Perry piloting the puppet because of his fighting style (The Return of the Rogue Rabbit)

I’m pretty sure this is the only time Heinz ever recognizes Perry without his hat on (correct me if I’m wrong tho) and the fact that it’s literally just because Perry punched the fuckin camera kills me every time

11. Heinz is worried they won’t make his play in time so Perry tells him to flip the turbo switch (Road to Danville)

Perry just trusts him so much??? Flipping the switch was what got them into that mess in the first place??? But Perry cares so much about Heinz making his LOVEMUFFIN play that he’s willing to give it another go??? I love it???

12. DANCE BABY DANCE BABY HANDS IN THE AIR (Candace Disconnected)

I feel like we don’t get to see Perry just kinda hanging out like that a lot. He’s always doing that steely glare, even when they’re having fun. I don’t think Perry really realizes how emotionless he can look sometimes (the beginning and end of Sidetracked are from Perry’s POV especially at the end, the way he acts with the boys shows too much character for a secret agent, so even though he seems to think it’s obvious that he’s all lovey dovey with them, he does much too good a job at hiding his emotions) but it’s nice to see him drop the facade every now and then

13. Heinz calls Monogram because Perry hasn’t shown up (Perry the Actorpus)

I know Perry’s not technically in this one but I love that Heinz a) calls OWCA when Perry doesn’t show up and b) looks so nervous as he calls OWCA because Perry hasn’t shown up

14. Perry brings Heinz a glass of water (Road to Danville)

Half this episode is just them being mad at each other because they blame the other one for sticking them in the desert with way home, and I love that even though Perry’s been fuming pretty much the entire time, the second Heinz actually starts yelling at him, he’s immediately hit with a wave of guilt (also I love that he somehow found a glass of water in the middle of the desert?)

15. “YOU PEED ON MY COUCH!” (AT2D)

Not gonna lie, I mostly picked this one for shits and giggles BUT that doesn’t mean I can’t overanalyze it because that’s what I do best. Perry’s whole role in the show is to tie together the two completely unrelated plots, and that’s only so entertaining because not only does neither side know the other, but neither side knows what version of Perry the other side knows. This is the first time Heinz has really connected mindless pet Perry with Agent P Perry, and I feel like that was the most interesting part of the movie was that Phineas, Ferb, Candace, and Heinz all saw a side of Perry they didn’t know. 

16. Heinz invites Perry out for lunch (The Quietest Day Ever)

Heinz doesn’t even know he got hit with the de-handsome-inator. He literally just thinks he lost, and his immediate reaction is to ask if Perry wants to hang out. I just love those lil insights into their relationship when they’re not fighting. Also, perry.exe has stopped working.

17. Honestly just all of Father’s Day

I hate knowing that chronologically, Father’s Day had to happen probably less than halfway through the summer and not towards the end like it does in the episode order. It’s such a sweet turning point in their relationship. Perry’s head all these horrible backstories about Mr. Doofenshmirtz and I can only assume he hates the guy, but he’s still so supportive of Heinz trying to win his approval -- and he’s supportive when that fails and Heinz needs someone to lean on.

18. Perry Lays An Egg

T H W A R T   M E   P E R R Y   T H E   P L A T Y P U S 

19. Heinz proving he knows how to shut the fuck up by refusing to shut the fuck up (Road to Danville)

Perry’s literally about to fight a bitch and I can’t blame him. I also like the lil look into Heinz’s thoughts with the “it’s not like I have to fill the space” line because it really explains a lot about him.

20. Perry waiting for the New Year’s ball to drop and for Heinz to finish his scheme (Happy New Year!)

Once again, a beautiful look at how their entire relationship is based on their routine and knowing what to expect. It wouldn’t be Heinz and Perry if there was not punching and kicking involved. (Also, Perry’s smug face while he waits) (Also also, Perry’s lil shrug)

21. Heinz invites Perry to hang out in his house in the suburbs (Put That Putter Away)

GIVE PERRY A DAY OFF (but for real I love that Heinz literally just asked if he wanted to hang out, AND that he assured Perry that he’d make sure he didn’t get in trouble with Monogram for it)

22. The end of Sidetracked

THEY? HOLD? HAND???

23. “The thing that’s kept me from succeeding all these years is YOU!” *turns finger around* (Road to Danville)

PERRY IS SO DONE WITH HIS SHlT I CAN’T FDJAFHDJLSFHDSAKJ

24. Roger tries to say hi to sleeping Perry (Just Our Luck)

How often does Perry have to fall asleep around Heinz for the guy to know he gets testy when someone wakes him up?

25. The brief New Year’s dance break (Happy New Year!)

THEIR DANCING IS SO FAST AND SO IN SYNC EITHER THEY REHEARSED THIS OR THEY JUST KNOW EACH OTHER SO WELL THAT IT JUST HAPPENS NATURALLY AND I WOULD DIE FOR THEM OKAY

26. Perry accidentally became famous for advertising tools and then shows up at DEI (Perry the Actorpus)

He’s so happy to see his nemesis again :,)

27. “You think I’m evil, right?” *finger guns* (Oil on Candace)

Perry is at least partially responsible for how horribly that day went, but that’s his job is to make sure evil scientists don’t impress other evil scientists. You don’t want, like, an evil scientist team up or whatever. But I’m decently sure there’s nothing in the job description that says Perry has to stick around and assure his nemesis that he’s good at being evil, so that’s all Perry’s doing.

28. Perry pulled an all nighter and shows up at DEI asleep and Heinz has to try not to wake him up (Just Our Luck)

The amount of respect it takes for Heinz to see his nemesis sleeping on the job and go out of his way not to wake him up (but to make sure he’s still included, of course; he’s not a disrespectful guy, even if he is evil) warms my heart

29. Perry shows Heinz a bunch of their pictures together (This Is Your Backstory)

a) I love that Perry carries those pictures in his wallet 

b) I love that those pictures exist at all

 c) I love that Heinz has enjoyed his nemesisship with Perry so much that it basically negates every tragic backstory

[fishmongeringstudies]

opening scene, six am, scrambled eggs stuck to your economy class seat

the first thing i bought in america was a stick of deodorant. i'd left mine in singapore though i could've sworn i'd stuck it in my suitcase before i got on the plane, in the turquoise pouch with the chipped zipper beside the advil that would sit there, forgotten, for the next thirteen weeks and a travel-sized bottle of hand sanitizer that smelled like well-fermented ass. it turns out your memory fails you when you're getting ready to leave everything you've ever known behind, even if the place you're headed for has looked like a hammered michelangelo's impression of salvation for most of your life. it was that kind of time. i was out of my mind and found the space beneath my feet where one expects floor to be empty for most, if not all, of my waking moments. of course i forgot about the deodorant. the real surprise was that i thought i'd remember at all.

the first thing i bought when i got on campus was a bottle of mineral water. it took me two days to realize that the star trek-esque metal fitting built into the wall on the first floor of my dorm building was meant to dispense drinking water and not tiny silver men that would kill me in my sleep, and three to realize that none of the water coolers in this place were functional. jamming my thumb into the button while no longer expecting anything to happen, i was reminded, suddenly and abruptly, that we were in the middle of a pandemic. i resisted the urge to rub my eye with the back of my hand and went back up to my room, where already a small army of plastic bottles had begun to accumulate on an empty shelf.

the first person i spoke to here is not a good person, but not a particularly bad one either. he is selfish and has half-eaten dinner plates for eyes and thinks the world is the size of his fist, which is how most people are when they're eighteen, especially the boys, especially the ones who've never had to answer to the horrible, searching x-ray question, what are you? i only hope he grows out of it. i will not be the one to make him. perhaps he should make an appointment with god.

the first time i cried in america was when i was born (austin, texas, april 25th, 2001). it hasn't happened since.

today i cross the street from the campus bookstore to the bank, thumbing my passport in the pocket of my hoodie to make sure it hasn't fallen out, to make sure they'll be able to identify my body if i'm ever found somewhere wet and starless (behind a beat-up denny's would be good, though i'm not against the idea of waffle house). i spend five minutes standing awkwardly in front of the empty counter, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, before i notice the print-out saying something about online check-ins and virtual consultations. i ignore it. when i finally work up the courage to speak to someone the teller makes me scan the QR code with my phone anyway. eight hours later, long after i've opened my first bank account in america and gotten a bona fide american debit card, bright orange like they're afraid i'm going to drop it on the street if it's the color of slate (i will anyway, because god made me full of homosexuality and hubris and i intend to live up to his expectations), and discovered that i am, in fact, capable of holding a conversation with two strangers a decade my senior who both have wedding rings and big adult smiles and soft adult voices, i get a text back. good news, it says. we're ready to serve you now.

the spring semester ends today. when i was typing up my powerpoint on why i should be allowed to go to america for college at four a.m. last december i remember looking up the duration of the spring semester on the school website. look, i told my mom, while frantically clicking through fifteen pointless, but very cool animations on google slides with my other hand. it's only until may twenty-first. it's not that long. but it's long enough.

it isn't long enough. three months is barely enough time to get someone to trust you enough to tell you what they think about when they're lying awake in bed at three o'clock in the morning and they have to pee but they're starting to drift off and if they get up now they'll never fall asleep ever again in their life. and this is a country we're talking about. the worst one there is. the loudest, the proudest, the weirdest; the closest to the proverbial heart of man. the one that's the happiest to fuck the world up, over and over again. this is not your standard courtship ritual. this is a lifelong investmnet.

one time someone told me he'd always thought he was straight. but then i met you, he said, his brows scrunched together in a way that was both unattractive and made me want to pinch his cheeks together until there was nothing left in between. so what does that make me? imagine i'm standing in that room again but a little removed from the scene. i stare into the camera like i'm in the office. i don't have a fucking clue, i say blankly. why the fuck are you asking me?

there is something about people who have never been forced to consider the question of what constitutes their fundamental identity as a human being. they're so happy, but in the way that toddlers are before they realize that melted ice cream doesn't taste as good as the frozen stuff and things that die, like, actually don't come back to you even if you hold a funeral for the ant you accidentally squished and stop drinking soda for a week and make sure not to step on all the white tiles in the hallway outside your apartment. i imagine all of the happy cishets in the world poised on the edge of a very tall building. what's at the bottom of the drop? i dunno. you'll have to ask them.

recently i acquired seven bottles of nail polish from a friend who was trying to clear out her collection before leaving for the summer. i keep forgetting people are leaving for the summer, and now they've all left. reality hits you like a horse's ass across the cheek. it's warm. it's soft. it smells unpleasant but in a way that makes you want to keep smelling it even though at the back of your mind you know that this isn't going to improve your mental, physical, or spiritual health, and yet in the moment, in the moment that is the now that is the blood coursing through your veins all red and shimmery like glass, in this funny little moment all you can do is stand there, eyes squeezed shut, and inhale.

i convinced my mom to send me my favorite bomber jacket. the postage cost seventeen dollars and fifty cents in singapore dollars but true to form it only took thirteen days to get from one side of the globe to the other. it is not so appalling after all that we are connected by distances. geographically speaking, i am always beside you.

there is at least one working water cooler on this campus. in the basement of this whoozy, boozy freshman dorm, beside the laundry room with its clear glass door and clean, powdery lavender-lemon-jasmine smell, you will find a metal fixture with a thick rectangular button hidden under the lip of the bowl. if you jam your thumb into it, water will erupt from the fountain-head like god pouring life into the mouths of tiny clay-children or goldfish, depending on which version of history you're a fan of, depending on which natgeo subscription you have. and the water will be very sweet, very cold, nourishing the skin on your bones and furnishing the ground beneath your feet. but don't drink from it. we're in a pandemic, after all.

instead go back up, past the lounge with the flatscreen tv and the ratty green sofas, past the elevator that sounds like a soap opera crossed with a minecraft let's play, past the cubbyhole of a kitchen with the moldy sponges and the half-empty bottle of dish soap that smells like van gogh's impression of misery until you get to the room that, for the last three brilliant, battered months, has been yours. and let yourself in.

05.21.21

[portiaadams]

Meyer and Charlie Smut

I wrote Lanskiano smut. It’s embedded in my Richard Harrow/Clara Thompson story. For those who don’t care about Richard and my OC, here is Charlie and Meyer having a moment

December 31st, 1921

The sound of the engine and the clacking of the train against the rails filled the room, but could not overcome the roaring silence between the room's inhabitants. Charlie adjusted his legs once more, trying to find some way to fit them on the single bed. God damn it, this was a bed for a child not a grown fucking man. The Darmody kid was probably too big for it.  Charlie wasn't sure how long he'd been awake-this time-but it was one of many things really pissing him off.

From the larger bed there was a quick flash of light and then the scent of sulfur and tobacco. "I offered to take that bed," Meyer said after a slow exhale.

"Them shoulders of yours wouldn't have even fit," Charlie groused.

Determining Charlie's mood came as naturally to him as determining the weather before he stepped off his stoop. Certainly, Charlie's moods could be as mercurial as the weather. And at the moment, Charlie's mood registered as stormy.

"Charlie," Meyer began.

"Can it, Meyer," Charlie answered and swung his legs off the bed, stumbling in the dark for his own cigarettes and lighter.

"You are being irrational," Meyer responded.

"That brutto figlio di puttana bastardo was up your ass all night. You enjoyed though, didn't ya?"

Meyer sighed. Charlie acted like he was the only one who wanted. Meyer's first memory was wanting. Wanting enough to eat, wanting a warmer fire, wanting. Those years when his father was gone and he did all a kid could do to keep his mother and siblings fed and warm.

But wanting. Wanting in America was sharper, brighter, different. There was so much more to want. From the moment he stepped off the ship he moved as fast as his little legs would carry him. He moved to learn English, to get out of the classroom full of tiny children and catch up with his peers, he moved to learn the streets and determine how to make money any way he could. He moved as fast as he could because he knew the goal was to leave the Lower East Side behind him. To move fast enough that one day he could even outrun wanting.

But nothing, not a lifetime of yearning for acceptance and security, held a candle to his ever-present need for Charlie. There was no part of him that did not want every part of Charlie. And as much as his wants dictated every carefully crafted move of his life, there was nothing he wanted more than Charlie. In his life, in his office, in his bed. Even if it made no sense. Even if it had no place in his plan.

"He was circling round you like a bitch in heat," Charlie continued.

"The way Gillian Darmody circled around you? The way the chorus girls do?" Meyer snapped back. He spent years, he spent agonizing nights, watching Charlie charm women whose desire for him was as clear as the powder on their faces.

"That's different, and you know it well as me."

"How?"

"They're broads, Meyer! It don't matter like..." Charlie stopped talking, not knowing how to put into words what mattered. They was just broads. They wasn't in his mind like Meyer was. Even Meyer wasn't with him he could still hear the little addin' machine in his head, telling him to be smart. Telling him to think.

Being with those women was like grabbing a dog from a cart and eating it on the street. Scratched the itch of need. Satisfying enough at the moment.

Being with Meyer was different and Meyer damn well knew it. They was friends and they was more and when more changed to be even more...It ain't like people understood their friendship anyway. The Jew and the Italian.  They was supposed to be mortal enemies, not friends for life. Not...whatever they was.

"I gotta keep up appearances," Charlie said because that was also a true thing. He hadn't told Meyer that Clara knew. No need to introduce complications. They was careful. They was always careful. "That's why I can't believe you let the guy get near you like that."

Meyer shook his head. "Charlie, he's married. To Lady Rose. I think he's just an adventurer."

"Yeah. I know what adventure he's after," Charlie responded.

"A man like that..."

"What? You think you ain't good enough for a fonferer like that cercatore d'oro? What, you just good enough for the likes of me, that it?"

The petulance in Charlie's voice was so familiar. "Charlie, come here."

"Mey, I ain't in the mood."

Meyer doubted that. Charlie was rarely not in the mood. "Charlie," he said again.

Charlie heard the gruff tone in Meyer's voice. He was angry, he was still angry, but that tone in Meyer's voice always did the same thing to him. Instinct drove him to Meyer's side.

Didn't mean he wasn't still angry, though. He sat next to Meyer silently. One man wearing an undershirt that buttons with sleeves that come down to his elbows, although the width of his shoulders and upper arms often mean the seams ripped and tore and stretched due to the strain placed upon them. The other man wore the new kind of undershirt-knit, sleeveless, no buttons.

Charlie told Meyer all the time he should switch. Be more modern. But Meyer couldn't quite break away from tradition in some matters.

"There will always be others, won't there, Charlie?" Meyer asks, and even though he knew the answer for a moment he willed Charlie to lie to him. "After all, we'll have to marry one day, won't we?"

"I ain't. Look at Harrow and Clara."

Meyer turned to stare at Charlie. Personally, he thought Harrow had chained himself to a klafte in pearls. But the man seemed to love her. And Clara seemed as happy as he thought her capable of being.

"Harrow seems content enough."

"That ain't the thing, Mey. They love each other. But we all know how this ends. Clara sobbing over a morgue slab with Darmody's brat and a baby or two besides clinging to her. I ain't gonna do that to a woman."

Such a delicate jaw in such a strong face, Meyer thought idly before bringing Charlie's face to his. Charlie didn't fight it, and soon their mouths were finishing the disagreement. Charlie fell first-Charlie always fell first-letting his mouth open and Meyer plunder its depths.

Charlie's mouth tasted of hot honey and something deeper, sweeter, more savory. It was the taste and sensation he spent a lifetime chasing down in penny candy bins and bakeries and sweet shops. Much like with the candy he had kept in his pockets from the first time he had spare pennies, he knew he'd never have enough of it.

It was the sweetness he'd always craved.

The hard, taut muscles of Charlie Luciano's body, the ones that struck fear around the underworld (and occasionally in the upper echelons) of New York went soft and loose as something else grew hard. Without realizing it, Meyer turned Charlie so he was on his knees, his head laying on the soft Irish linen pillowcase embroidered with the ever-present P.

Meyer's left hand drifted over the hard muscles of Charlie's stomach down to the mother of pearl buttons on Charlie's beloved silk boxers. His fingers drifted over the buttons but didn't try to undo them. Instead, he reached down to the impossibly soft skin of Charlie's inner thigh and began drawing lazy circles. His right hand combed through Charlie's thick dark curls before yanking sharply so Charlie had to turn his face to Meyer to save his hair, their faces so close they were breathing in each other's breaths.

"Tell me, Charlie. Tell me why I'm different from Gillian and those broads."

Charlie's breath was hot and fast. "God damn it, Mey. Just touch me."

"Tell me the things I do to you I'll never do to Dennis Malley," Meyer said, his hand cupping over Charlie's bulge momentarily before going back to stroking his inner thigh.

"You do lots of stuff I'd fucking kill anybody else for," Charlie said, knowing they were journeying into uncharted territory. "You knot up my god damn hands with your tie."

Meyer leaned over so his face was against the smooth back of Charlie's neck, wanting to inhale Charlie's scent, wanting to inhale Charlie. "Yes, true. What else," he asked while his hand slid under the paisley silk to caress the very tip of Charlie's cock.

Charlie tried to push his hips into Meyer's fingers but Meyer removed his hand from Charlie's hair and grabbed him around the hips. "Don't even try it," Meyer whispered harshly.

"You put your prick in my mouth and push it in until I choke. You like it when I choke."

True, Meyer thought, because who wouldn't want Charlie on his knees? Who wouldn't want to see those pretty lips wrapped around their cock? He rewarded Charlie with a quick tug that made both of them momentarily forget to breathe.

"You make me grab my own prick and you watch. Sometimes you put your fingers in...god damn it, Meyer, you know where you put your fingers."

For a moment Meyer's hands brushed back against the buttons. What did it matter, he decided, Charlie bought his silk underwear by the gross. He yanked on them so hard that the mother of pearl buttons scattered across the thick antique rug. Filled with a need to feel the silky soft flesh of Charlie's back under the thick fur of his chest he first pushed up Charlie's undershirt until it was wrapped around Charlie's shoulders before Meyer sat back on his own knees to more carefully remove his own underthings. After all, he'd spent good money on them. No need for carelessness.

"For our mutual benefit you should continue," Meyer growled, fighting the urge to have Charlie right now.

Charlie licked his lips. Meyer was leaning over him to grab something from the bag on the floor, causing Meyer's dick to press against his lower back. It gave him some satisfaction to realize Meyer was as hard as he was. He writhed under Meyer and was rewarded by Meyer groaning above him. He heard the sound of glass and the knowledge of what was in Meyer's hand made precum start leaking out of the tip of his dick.

"You put on oil on your fingers and then you put oil on me and sometimes you put oil on my hand so I can rub it on your dick," Charlie finally managed to say.

Meyer's hand was covered with oil as it started massaging the top of Charlie's ass. Charlie groaned as Meyer's fingers slipped into his crack.

The light coming in the edges of the curtains was changing but Meyer was too distracted by the sight in front of him to think about what that meant. He was intoxicated by the scent, sight, and feel of Charlie. "What else?"

The linen of the pillowcase was now being crushed between Charlie's fingers. The fuck if he was going to ruin this moment like a damn kid. "You put me on my side," Charlie continued after taking a deep breath and Meyer moved him so quickly he fell onto his side with a thump.

After positioning Charlie's legs to his liking Meyer continued to let his hand move down.

"You push your fingers inside me," Charlie managed to gasp out as he felt one of Meyer's fingers breach him. "Mey, your fingers are so fucking thick."

Meyer lowered his mouth onto the top of Charlie's shoulders, his own breath coming at an incredibly thick pace, overtaken by the need to taste Charlie's flesh salty and warm under his tongue. Neither man noticed the bedside clock striking six.

Nor did they notice the train was no longer rocking beneath them.

With great care Meyer worked in a second finger and started scissoring, looking for the spot that always made Charlie howl.

Charlie howled. Meyer pressed harder.

"God damn it, Meyer, god damn it..." Charlie pleaded.

"Say it," Meyer begged, his breath hot against Charlie's ear, the game having rebounded until his need was as raw and urgent as Charlie's own.

"I want you, Mey, please," Charlie finally sobbed out. "You fuck me, you fuck me, holy mother of god please just fuck me."

"Charlie, god," Meyer breathed out, his heart hammering in his chest.

The words falling from Charlie's mouth dissolved into nonsense. For a moment their faces were pressed together, letting Meyer feel the pulse in Charlie's temple in the bones of his own face.

Once more Meyer pressed his fingertips against Charlie's jaw and their mouths opened to each other. There was no more dominance or one-upmanship. Instead, there was the slow slide of their mouths melding together until Meyer can no longer determine where he ends and Charlie begins.

One hand gripped Charlie's hip, holding him in place. Meyer could feel the tenseness in Charlie when he first breached him and the pain hit, but after a moment he could feel Charlie's muscles relaxing under his hand.

"I gotta move, tesoro," Meyer finally breathed out.

One of Charlie's hands braced against the soft mossy velvet of the headboard while his other reached back for any part of Meyer he could touch. It didn't matter that Meyer was ever so slowly moving ever deeper inside him. He needed more. He wanted everything.

"Move, libster. Damn it, move," Charlie answered, his hand finally finding Meyer's ass to pull him closer, to pull him further in.

Time lost meaning. Seconds, minutes, hours, days fell away. There was just this. Meyer's hand finally came around to touch Charlie in the way Charlie had wanted since the game began, since time began.

Finally, they fell into the soaked sheets, the ruins of Charlie's underthings trapped beneath them, their legs and hands twisted together, both of them breathless and boneless. Their faces were still pressed together and as Meyer relaxed back into sleep he realized their faces were wet.

He wasn't sure who had cried.

[pocketbeanz]

Late night thoughts

I want to tell you that I like you, but I tend to get crushes on people who are just plain nice to me and I don’t want to get your hopes up, but you’re sitting next to me in a Denny’s parking lot showing me old photos and laughing about the flickering pickle shop sign across the street. And we’re 176 miles away from home trying to be adults, but all I can think about is how we’re free right now to do anything. We both have around 300 dollars in our pockets and are far away from our parents, but all we spend our money on is things we couldn’t get when we were children.

And I want to tell you that I like you, but you’ve shot me down before and I just finally let my feelings fade, but you’re smiling at me with so much happiness that you can’t even tell that you were crying last night. 

It’s 11 o’clock and we’ve been driving all day, but we believe that we met God today, or at least our God, with pink hair and the humor of a depressed kid who was told it was just a phase. In the car is a new religion that we made while half asleep and so much trash from the presents I bought you. We made up stories that we pretended to be scared of and made jokes that confused even ourselves. 

And I want to tell you that I like you, but you’ve been away for so long that I don’t even know if you are the same person I once went to school with. Our story was not told the way we wanted it to be, we had an entire summer to plan the future, but now we’re 18 and life has jumped on us faster than anyone would want it to. We were just kids a few months ago and now we are looking for a house to leave our families for. I am hopeful for the future, but I doubt it will end the way we want it to. All we want is a safe place to be ourselves, to finally feel free and safe, but the way things are looking…

And I miss you, but you haven’t even talked to me directly in months and the last time we talked you weren’t yourself again. You’ve told me so many times that this is the end, but only after the fact, as if I’m in third place and I have to be the last to know. We were so close once, at least I thought we were, but the longer I think about it the more it becomes clear that I was a memory you only brought up when it was useful for you. 

And I miss you, but it’s been so long since we last were able to call ourselves best friends, and I have so many memories and videos of the good times, and yes sometimes I rewatch them to see the person I once loved with every ounce of my being and who I would have given the world to. But yes I would still give anything for your happiness, I just doubt you feel the same. 

And I miss you, but it’s been almost seven years since we last touched and I see you everytime I close my eyes, but the connection hasn’t been there for months and I lost the nerve to fight for it just as long ago. Everything I make has you in it no matter how hard I try. 

And I hate you for what you put me through, I thought I was broken because of you, and it’s taken years to even begin to feel real again, and even now I still feel like a shell of what a human should be. 

And I hate you for what you did to me and my friends, you should have been taken away so long ago, who thinks it’s fine to do what you did. I trusted you with secrets, but all you saw was an object to use. You are the one who made me realize that people can’t all be trusted at such a young age. 

[hournites]

Say that we’ll stay with each other 

An aged-up Jealous!Rick hournite fic for @samarasketch 

~.~

They grab coffee at the diner to catch up every week. It’s not the only time they see each other, but missions require zero personal life talk for safety, as learned very quickly into their JSA run, and their texts just aren’t sufficient enough for the way they miss each other’s company.

Beth rearranges the cutlery, waiting for Rick as he picks out two desserts from beneath the glass window by the cash. It’s late and quiet, Rick had to work overtime to finish a deadline,  so she took a nap at her office until he swung by with his car to pick her up. 

The steaming coffee is in front of her, untouched. It’s been a long day and she’s second guessing whether or not caffeine is actually such a good idea after all. 

“Wow,” Rick greets her, sliding into the booth across from her. He’s no longer slicking his hair back with gel and the small change makes a massive difference in how he looks. His hair is thick, falling over the front of his face, long enough to frame his eyes. Those eyes are lit up now, bright hazel. They sweep over her, taking everything in like he needs the moment to process. 

The silent gesture pushes Beth to look down at herself, wondering if she spilled something or was showcasing a wardrobe malfunction of some kind. 

“You look amazing. I noticed before but your jacket was on.”

Beth relaxes, settling against the leather backing of her seat. He grins at her, which she returns easily. Rick is her best friend—has been for a very long time. Her lips curve around the rim of her ceramic mug. “Oh, thank you! I was on my date earlier over lunch. I didn’t want to show up in my lab coat.” 

“Right,” he replies. “Dr. Leho, was it?” ” Rick twirls his fork into the perfectly cut marble cake slice on the pretty small plate. “How’d that go?”

Beth suppresses the urge to roll her eyes. “Dr. Leon.”

“Oh, was that it?” As if he hadn’t deliberately botched the name of her date in the first place. Rick has met Denny before. Beth’s mom had invited him to her surprise birthday dinner that she organized with Courtney a few weeks ago. He was nice, bought her a book of easy recipes that he swore got him well fed through night shifts that he thought she’d enjoy. The gesture was thoughtful and was what made her agree to giving him her number. Rick was there for it all, one eyebrow arched high in what she was able to tell was silent judgement as he kept sharing a look with Yolanda. 

“—And it went fine.”

He raises that brow again now. “Just fine?”

Beth shrugs. She already knows how Rick feels about why she’s giving him a chance. He’s not exactly her first choice when it comes to dating—Rather, he wasn’t much of a choice at all, pestered into giving the youngest single doctor working at her mom’s floor the time of day. 

Her parents are getting concerned she’s throwing herself too deep into work without any support. It’s not precisely fair—Juggling a new position at Central City emergency with spontaneous secret crime-fighting against metahuman villainous egomaniacs does not give a woman much time to find someone new to love. Long shifts end in face-planting into bed until the next one and there’s nothing more she’d rather do than shove off her work shoes to do that. Only a handful of people have enough grip on Beth’s heart for her to sacrifice her evenings—Courtney and her family, Yolanda, Jade, Wally, her parents. And while she enjoys the pretty dress and matching pair of high heels for dinner, her energy to sustain a relationship would require an extension of self that she’s not sure she has to offer. 

She’s tried to explain this, cutting out the important JSA parts, which she self-admits would strengthen her argument.

“It was a nice lunch.” She’s already preferring dessert with Rick, though.

“Tell me about it.”

“There’s not much to tell.”

“What, he was that boring?”

Beth sighs. She finds herself describing her entire lunch break, from waiting for Denny to scrub his hands from surgical fluids to grabbing her hand to chatter about his day without a moment of pause for her to get something into the conversation until their food had arrived. It’s because he was excited to be on the date with her. Beth’s mom was talking her up to him, no doubt, clearly that was the case by any indication of how her mother kept talking about Denny to her over the phone too. So Denny was likely nervous, he kept letting out a barking type laugh after something he thought Beth should find funny. Beth couldn’t exactly be annoyed for his rambling to no end, she was the queen of that when she was younger. Her mom probably thought it was nice they had that in common. Except, it’s not. Beth’s excited verbal amusement park went away with age. Beth learned to keep her mouth shut when she needed to, she’s hoarded too many secrets. 

“There’s one thing though that bothered me a bit,” she admits finally, tapping her cut nails against the table. “He asked me what...pleased me... the most.” 

Rick frowns at her. “Huh?”

She flushes, eyes flitting away as she mumbles, “In bed. What I find pleasurable in bed.”

Rick bristles, his mouth dropping open. “Did you tell him?” 

“After what he told me first? I kind of had to. There was a family sitting within earshot of us, it was barely noon so I sort of said something vague, I don’t exactly remember, I think my brain is trying to block it out. It was embarrassing.” 

“God, that’s tacky.” 

She knew Rick would say that. “I think he was trying to assess our compatibility?”

“You make him sound like some socially inept robot.”

Beth lowers her mug, biting her tongue on calling herself a socially inept robot. She reaches over the table for the pot the waitress left for them after Rick’s second refill, instead. He lifts it for her when notices, pouring her a fresh cup and slides over the basket of sugar packets and creamers.

“Thanks,” she says, then returns to their conversation. “I think he was trying to be suave.”

“You hate that word! You’ve said so yourself!”

Had she? Beth wrinkles her nose. It’s crazy how much of their lives they’ve shared together. “In high school, maybe.”

“I vividly remember you telling me that talking about sexual preferences with acquaintances freaks you out.” That’s true. Whenever a horror story kinky sex accident patient shows up in Beth’s emergency room describing their incident in full detail, it takes all of her professionalism not to drop her clipboard and run out from second hand embarrassment. 

She shifts in her seat and explains, “He was my date, Rick.”

“So that’s what, half an hour of getting to know him? You’d think someone that went to med school would have the patience to keep it in their pants.”

“Rick!” She gapes at his bluntness because he’s just flinging it out there, dragging Dr. Leon’s entire personality with barely any effort at all, what’s worse is that he’s being unintentionally funny and now she’s trying not to laugh.

“What? This man is clearly not for you. He’s not your type.”

She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Then what is?”

Rick looks down at his plate, quieting. He hasn’t really eaten yet, just danced his fork all over that cake. She’s half tempted to ask him for it if Rick’s not hungry. She finished her lemon square in four bites.

 “Well...”

“Well?”

"Well... He’s not my type... for you. He’s not good enough for you. He sounds like a secret sleaze."

Beth stops trying to defend Denny after Rick says that. She’s not sure if he’s so adamant because he can tell the way she’s not really interested in him, but feels the need to make her mom happy and is trying to give her an out, or if he honestly thinks Denny is not a good person. She’s been a superhero for ten years now, Beth is pretty sure how to gauge a person’s character. There’s nothing wrong with Denny Leon the way Rick is painting him. It’s hard because she knows there’s no real spark, but she’s willing to try. Chemistry doesn’t develop like that over one day. 

Beth thinks about her mom again. She just wants Beth to have a fulfilling life. And she had found Beth’s father while also steadily making a career as a respected research clinician. What’s Beth’s excuse then, to say finding someone isn’t possible?

“I don’t have a type, I’ve barely dated at all. The man I’ve spent most of my time with is you.”

Rick takes a while to respond, but his eyes are on hers like he’s waiting for an afterthought to accompany her last sentence. It’s sincere and gentle, and for the second time since they’ve met here today, she finds her heartbeat picking up because of the way she’s being seen. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“It’s just—“

“What?”

He takes another moment before answering. “Why are you forcing something with someone you have no desire to connect to? Are you not...Happy?”

His question takes her by surprise. She stammers, feeling more heat rise to her face. “Why are you asking me this?”

Rick drags a hand over his face and leaves it there for a moment, like he’s just trying to breathe. Eventually, he sweeps his hair back up over his head, and he strikes a nostalgic resemblance to the angry boy Beth latched onto in tenth grade whose soul she watched soften over years of time. Her heart pangs at the memory of the way things were. When they spent all week side by side, and didn’t have to schedule coffee dates that inch towards midnight around saving each other in costumes with relics because of their hectic lives. 

“I care about you,” he finally says. “I just don’t want to see you exhaust yourself over someone that’s not worth your time. You should be with someone who makes you feel how I feel whenever I’m with you.”

She smiles at that. “I love you too, Rick.”

His own smile falters, something dims in his expression, she’d almost call it wistful, but that’s not exactly a feeling Rick has in his emotional repertoire. He lowers his gaze to his plate again. 

“Hey.” Beth places her hand over his. “Are you okay?”

In high school, Rick was on track to becoming a mechanic like Pat until the man turned him around by the shoulders and walked him through scholarship applications for college. To the surprise of practically everyone in Blue Valley except his inner circle of friends, he graduated with honours in both chemistry and physics, and is now an independent research scientist for a big pharma company. He says he likes his lab, but the regulations of being under a company contract means there’s only so much experimentation he can get by with on his own. Beth has been encouraging his recent talks of starting up his own research lab for JSA, but he seems stressed thinking of taking that beyond the realms of idealism.

His hand freezes beneath her palm. He glances up at her again without words, like he’s struggling with what to say. The creases between Beth’s brows deepen further with concern. “Rick?”

“I’m fine,” he lies. The smile is so fake it hurts that he thinks she could be fooled by it. 

“Come on, it’s just us. Something’s bothering you. Is it work? Did your uncle contact you for money again?”

“No, I’m fine. I promise.”

“Rick—“

“You don’t have a type. You just have a person. I know that because you’ve been my person since I was seventeen. You don’t need your mother’s fancy surgeon prodigy to sweep you off your feet, Beth. You have me.” 

“I—”

Her pulse rushes in her ears. She’s honestly speechless. Beth just sits there. Rick searches her face for some type of recognition she can’t give back because she’s just confused. She’s blinking back unexpected tears, the hand she has over his shaking, because there has to be something more to this, the gravity behind everything, but her mind keeps hitting against a blank wall. She understands what Rick is saying but not what he means. 

He sees her distress and slips out of his booth, sliding into her side. “Hey,” he says, wrapping an arm around her as she presses her wet face into his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s okay.” 

Her stomach drops at the horrible way his voice sounds scratchy, thick with regret. That’s when it clicks, and the tears fall for real.

Rick is in love with her. 

She’s not crying because she’s upset. Blindly, she reaches up for his face to see him, those fond hazel eyes blinking back. They used to be so hardened and guarded, but it’s just openness now, with her. It’s late, the diner is almost empty, nothing but dim lights and the only waitress busy cleaning up behind the counter. It’s just them, in their special spot. And it’s just them, their solid partnership, that Beth needs in her life to carve out time and effort and feelings for. He’s been trying to articulate this over and over since the evening began. Hugging her tightly, lets out a long breath. The solace he finds in her, alone. The relief and love. How she feels it in equal measures, how it’s always been there.

“I didn’t know.”

“I never really told you.”

But he has, really. He’s shown her since they were kids. 

She touches his face, guiding him down so he could kiss her the way she suddenly desperately wants.

He does, kissing Beth deeply until her head goes dizzy and the light feeling is not something she ever wants to let go of. There is no extension of self when Beth is with Rick. No room to make. He already is in her future, can have all of her time. 

[ariparri]

Fluff Alphabet - Glitter Bomb

At long last, here's the fluff alphabet for Carson and Tulip!

I wanted to get this done first before finishing up the stuff for Isa and the other au ships.

I'm still practicing with moodboards since I'm not good at making them. This is the second one I made for Glitter Bomb because I wasn't happy with the first one.

Related

DieRuca Fluff Alphabet

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

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Carson finds Tulip eccentricity. He just loves how she isn't afraid to be herself. He loves a person with confidence, high self esteem and prides their own intelligence. He just finds that extremely attractive. Anybody can have a pretty face, but if the personality is terrible then everything else gets ruled out.

Tulip finds Carson, himself as a whole, attractive. She loves his style, the way he dresses like he's part of some band that plays in their garage and how he doesn't care if his style doesn't match. But what she finds most attractive is his humor and his laugh. Carson has a contagious laughter, and she's always finding herself laugh along with him even when she's trying to be serious. She just loves it, his sense of humor is great and his laugh always seems to brighten up everyone's mood.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Carson didn't really think about actually having kids. He did say that if he ever got a daughter, he would name her after his mother. Tulip at the time didn't see herself being a mother. She always saw herself to be more of an independent woman with her own ideals and goals. They both talked about it every now and then, both agreeing they weren't in any rush to settle down and have kids. That was until Tulip had an unplanned pregnancy and the topic of kids was brought up again. While Calum wasn't planned at the start, they both agree it would be nice to have a kid and see how things go about from there. After a while of thinking about children, Carson was getting a little too excited and that excitement was starting to rub off on Tulip. She eventually couldn't wait to have their first child.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

The preferred position they cuddle in is the sweetheart cradle. Carson would lie on his back and hold onto Tulip while she rests her head on his chest. Another position they cuddle in is the arm draper. They'll both lie on the bed, facing each other with their arms draped over the other. They're also fond of resting their head on the other's lap. Especially when it involves horror movie marathons and Carson just relaxes his head on Tulip's lap and she starts scratching his head. It's a soothing feeling.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Dates can be wild for Carson and Tulip. They have a poster full of date ideas and they choose five from the list before placing those ideas on a dart board for them to hit a target. Each gets three darts and whatever idea gets the most hits that's the date they go on.

A couple favorites are paintball or laser tag. They enjoy having a bit of a competitive game as a date, it makes it more fun and exciting. Another favorite is where they go thrift shopping and pick out each other's outfit to wear on the date. Tulip picked out a nice long rainbow skirt to match with a neon green crop top for Carson while he picked out anything in yellow.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world...))

Tulip: You are the spark to my flame

Carson: You are my twin flame

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Carson realized he was in love with Tulip when Jae and Diego joked about how he and Tulip were always budding heads. Carson claims it as a simple rivalry on who was the better prankster of the two. Not satisfied with his answer, Jae and Diego pressed on. It eventually got to Carson spouting on and on about how ridiculous Tulip can be, before he started trailing off to all the things he liked about her. He kept going on until he noticed the looks on his friends' faces and realized just exactly what he was talking about. It didn't take too long until Jae slaps his back and loudly announces that he was a lovestruck fool.

Tulip was quick to realize her feelings for Carson. She found out she liked Carson more than a friend when he was hanging out with another girl for some time. She didn't even know why she felt bothered by it till Tonks just bluntly told her that she was falling for Carson. She of course was in denial for some time. But when Carson went out on another date with this girl, it was clearly obvious that Tulip was in fact jealous and in love with Carson. But all that jealous tension quickly died down when Carson introduced the girl as his cousin who was visiting from Scotland. Tonks couldn't stop laughing and she never let Tulip live it down.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Being quite the charmer, Carson can be gentle. It's in his words and gestures. He always addresses Tulip in terms of endearment and when he does, his voice is tender and filled with so much love and emotion. Carson gives great foot massages, so he always gives Tulip a massage whether or not she asks for one.

Tulip's a bit more forward with her affection, most of it is done through actions than words. Whenever Carson is sitting down and Tulip is standing behind him, she'll place her hands on his shoulders and give him a gentle massage. Head scratches are another thing she often does for him whenever they're both just lounging about in the comfort of their own home.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

The way they hold hands often involves being wrapped around one another. They'll be sitting next to each other and Carson will have his arm draped over Tulip's shoulder and she'll reach her hand up to hold his own. The other one is similar to this but instead of sitting, they're standing. One of them will be behind the other, arms wrapped around their body while the other's arms are crossed to intertwine their hands.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

At first, they were both annoyed with each other. They practically challenged the other every chance they got when it came to pranks. It wasn't until Veruca asked them for help with Filch when they decided to put aside their differences and work together. They were pretty amazed with how well they both were able to work together and combine their own preferred pranks into one mega bomb. Both Carson and Tulip had some new found respect for each other after this prank and often pair up to create big pranks.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Yes. Both of them can get jealous. When Carson gets jealous, he can throw a little temper tantrum and Veruca ends up being on the receiving end of it. He would eventually step in and tell the person to back off. If they can't get the hint, well Carson's old tricks come into play and if Dennis also doesn't like the person he joins in. Carson can be a bit of a mopy cry baby though and would get a little clingy when Tulip realizes what's going on.

When Tulip gets jealous, she broods about it for a moment before setting up a mega dungbomb in the person's belongings. After hearing a loud explosion and seeing them run off screaming, Tulip is satisfied with the turn of events. Especially when Carson comes by to see it happen and he just burst out laughing. He pretty much knows who was responsible but feigned ignorance when asked about it.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Their first kiss had a bit of an outside help. On their second date, being paintball war, Dennis tagged along for the fun. It ended with Tulip getting the most hits on Carson. They were in the middle of talking where Carson was congratulating her, until Dennis basically jumped into the back of Carson's head pushing him forward, making him kiss Tulip. They pulled apart, a little awkwardly if it wasn't for the smug mocking croak coming from Dennis. Carson clearly wasn't amused but Tulip pulled him in for another kiss.

L = Love (Who says 'I love you' first?)

While Carson does like to express his affections towards Tulip, he's never actually said that he loved her before. Tulip didn't seem to mind since she was perfectly fine with how they express their affection. It wasn't until seeing just how romantically sappy Diego and Veruca were and how Jae points out that they haven't said it to each other yet. During one of their night outs to the bar they frequent, Diego and Veruca announce they finally started dating. In the middle of the excitement, Carson pulls Tulip closer to him and finally says those three magical words. It may not be romantically special, but it was perfect to them.

M = Memory (What's their favourite memory together?)

Carson's favorite memory together was during the Celestial Ball. Tulip didn't have a date, and while Carson didn't go with anyone either, he promised her a dance. After Carson went through his rounds dancing with everyone who attended the ball alone, it was Tulip's turn to dance with him. He wasn't used to her dressing up, so seeing her in a dress was a nice surprise. They both had a fun time just laughing and dancing the night away.

Tulip's favorite memory of them together involved filling the entire Ravenclaw common room full of glitter and dungbomb filled balloons. They set it up to it popping on the dungbombs time, so everyone caught in the room were covered in glitter and dungbomb stench. The amount of trouble and the looks on everyone's faces were the highlights of that day. Even when they were in detention they couldn't stop laughing, Flitwick had to extend their punishment time.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

At the start of their relationship, Carson went all out with the tulip and balloon bouquets. It had to take Dennis biting onto him or croaking in refusal to get Carson to stop spoiling Tulip with all the bouquets. Other than the bouquets, Carson does buy her a lot of outfits that accentuate her figure, or even pins and necklaces from Zonko's as a reminder of her love for pranks.

Whenever Tulip is out and she happens to see some band merchandise, especially for bands Carson loves, she'll buy some for him. She buys mostly for the shirts and bandanas than the posters and pins. Carson definitely prefers them since they're everyday uses. Although she buys them for him, she sometimes steals the shirts whenever they're going to bed.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Red reminds Carson of Tulip all because of her hair. Every time he finds anything red, he instantly thinks it would look great on Tulip, something that would compliment her natural beauty.

Fuschia reminds Tulip of Carson. Despite blue being a color Carson often wears, his favorite color is fuschia. She's often reminded of the pink colored shirts he likes to wear with the Twisted Sister logo on them. Whenever she finds something completely ridiculous in that color, she'd send him a picture of it with the caption "This is clearly you" 

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Carson likes to use many names for Tulip. Most common one would be Cherry for her hair. Other names he calls her are Babes, Cuddle Cakes, My Flame, Hotness, and Troublemaker. He also started calling themselves the Gruesome Twosome after Tulip's mother called them out of slight annoyance.

Tulip doesn't often use pet names, but when she does it's a mix between Dream Boy, Hot Stuff, Muffinhead, and Prince Charming. She mostly uses them as a way to tease him or feign annoyance with him.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Carson has a collection of old VHS movies. He usually keeps them displayed but some nights they'll have an old movie marathon. With Tulip, she sometimes challenges herself with watching the sunset and the sunrise in one day. She isn't entirely a morning person, so to watch the sunrise at least once every now and then can be a fun way to challenge herself to get out of bed. Carson sometimes joins her in this little activity.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

On a rainy day when both of them are simply bored, they'll sit on the sofa while slow music plays in the background and they're drinking hot chocolate. On other rainy days, they would go out and have a little water day. They'll chase each other around and jump around in puddles.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Dennis usually gets involved when Tulip is sad. If Carson's hot chocolate or blueberry muffins don't help comfort her, Dennis will jump onto Carson and stick his tongue into Carson's ear. He'll latch onto him and cause Carson to start shuffling around trying to get the darn toad off of him. Surely enough, Tulip will start laughing at them.

When Carson is sad, Tulip sometimes brings out the board games or turns on the ghost hunting channel. She also tries to make the blueberry muffins his mother often makes for him. Sadly, she isn't much of a cook so she makes a huge mess in the kitchen. Carson walks in to see Tulip close to having a crisis in the kitchen before bursting out in laughter and he's suddenly in a better mood. He then rushes to help her clean up and then bake the muffins with her.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Sometimes they talk about their families. While Tulip can be a little annoyed by her parents, Carson distracts her by talking about how his mother wear a dress when he was five. They often talk about past prank wars and old memories. Tulip likes to bring up all the times Carson cried about puffskeins just appearing out of nowhere, embarrassing him just a little bit.

Date ideas often come up, and whatever isn't on their date list they'll talk about it before adding it to the list.

They also love to reminisce about the times they annoy both Chester and Andre. Carson just has crazy fashion ready for when Andre wants to use him as a model and the atrocity he has to face when Carson comes out with the most ridiculous outfit. 

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Carson is actually a fan of health and skin care, so coming home to see Tulip having the face masks out he tosses his work to the side and throws himself onto the sofa to ready for some relaxation. They both also listen to music and well, sing together. Most of the music they listen to range from 80s rock, pop, funk, and a little bit of R&B and Jazz. Two terrible singers paired together so perfectly, neighbors must hate them. Carson also plays the violin if Tulip is having a stress day. The melodious sound that comes from the instrument helps soothe her from getting a headache.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

They both like to show off their intelligence, which usually comes into play with their pranks. They try to one up the other by performing a prank that can be seen as more superior than the other.

They also like to show each other off. Mainly when someone tries to bring down the other, they'll start singing a bunch of praises and all the accomplishments their partner has done. They're kind of the jealous, boasting couple. 

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

Yes. You know that meme on Proposal Instructions? This one.

These were clearly joke proposals they both did just to get a laugh out of each other.

It was also a double proposal. On one of their dates to a paintball park, they invited a few friends for a group date. They were all pretty much in on the plan but didn't know the other half had the same idea. Tulip was the first to propose which made Carson stop and go, "Are you freaking serious?" before pulling out the ring to propose to her with. Everyone got a good laugh out of it.

X = Xylophone (What's their song?)

Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now by Starships

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Tulip at first didn't think much about it. But after both of them did joke proposals the thought has definitely crossed her mind. Just like Tulip, Carson didn't really think much of marriage until he and Tulip have been dating for a while. It definitely would be a dream to be married and it would make his parents, especially his mother, proud.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Carson absolutely doesn't want a pet. Tulip already has Dennis and he is the only one that Carson is willing to tolerate. And Tulip is perfectly fine with just having Dennis as a pet. That is of course until they have Raylene and she wanted to keep a piglet they found hurt in the woods while on a camping trip. At first Carson wasn't a fan of it, but the puppy eye look his daughter was giving him made him cave.

[badnew2005]

begging for synopsis of deceased dennis folie analysis fic

okay okay okay i love talking about her so much and have spent all day trying to piece bits together but in all honestly i do not remember it all :( . here is my best run down ….

basic outline is that each chapter is based off of each song from folie (however the fic was unfinished for many months before the author deleted their account </3 . i have a vague memory of it behind eight chapters long so far but am still very foggy on when it was actually last touched - i know for sure there were no chapters for 27 or tiffany blews because i was really looking forward to them) .. dennis reynolds character analysis !

disloyal order : “hey doctor i’m certifiable” . this chapter was based around dennis’ diagnosis in physco pete returns .. he’s having a hard time accepting the diagnosis and wether or not he should take his meds - if he Needs them . calls dee and asks for her opinion, very interesting look into their sibling relationship there

i don’t care : (i know there were Two charden back office hookup chapters i can’t really remember which ones which though) charden back office hookups !!! mentions of how charlie and dennis have been doing this for ages it was always casual just what they needed whenever they needed it - Until the year mac and dennis were hooking up . i can’t remember if This was the post north dakota charden back office chapter or not but . “say my name and his in the same breath i dare you to say they taste the same” dennis says macs name instead of charlies and things get heated . this is not the first time he’s done that …

she’s my winona: set during suburbs !!! “never the same person when i go to sleep as when i wake up” moment of intimacy or more realistically vulnerability . dennis can’t sleep and despite like everything he wants to be (i can’t word this right sorry) he goes across the landing and crawls into macs bed for comfort . there’s mention again of that year they were hooking up how good it all was and then how frozen it had been since . cuddles ?? i think

america’s suitehearts : (i THINK) set during north dakota . dennis is in his car, as he often is, smoking crack . mandy doesn’t know about any of it . “i’ve got a lot of friends stuck on classic coke” … contemplates going home . i think this was when he decided he needed to go back . mentions of how dee was the only person he kept in contact with properly . had asked about himself at the bar maybe and the reaction was disappointing.. i guess they don’t miss me that much huh kind of . maybe . this ones very foggy it came back this morning though

headfirst slide : i cannot remember at all what this chapter was about but i know the lyrics were “it’s a sign what if you peaked early” And “head like a steel trap, wish I didn't, I didn't, I didn't, I didn't, I didn't, I didn't, I didn't, I don't just want to be a footnote in someone else's happiness” …. :/

shipped gold standard : again i can’t remember it at all i’m sorry . i’m pretty sure the lyrics were the “i want to scream i love you from the top of my lungs but i’m afraid that someone else will hear me” and was ab macden but . guesswork

coffees for closers : continued trend ! i can’t remember! i think the lyrics were “when they made me they broke the mould, girls used to follow me around and then i got cold” . i think this Might have been the other charden back office hookup chapter but i really can’t be sure . i’m just going to talk about that here then . again one of the charden chapters was post north dakota i can’t remember which i’m just going to keep pretending and say it’s this one . but . mac has brought some guy he likes into the bar and they’re flirting .. den gets jealous - takes charlie into the back office “at least i have the dignity to not flirt infront of the whole bar” type deal . charlies worried like hey come on they’re all out there anybody could just walk in. something happens ??? and dennis is Crying - like they’re still hooking up but charlie notices that den Is Crying and stops despite dennis not admitting it . something something comfort . charlies used to dennis being Mad or not feeling anything - but recently he’s just been mad all the time - doesn’t know quite what to do with an upset dennis, but i think den eventually lets charlie look after him in this moment .. hurt/comfort things. i think that might’ve been two chapters mixed into one but i can’t remember straight.

i can’t remember anything past this i do think that might’ve been the last chapter uploaded despite my memory of “eight” … anyways as usual here is a post where i have linked the fic incase anyone’s smarter than me and i’ve actually just been lying for the past month or so . we can see how wrong i’ve remembered this </333

[jan31]

Rambling Review Episode 29

I have been trying to write this review since Monday and I would like to think my thoughts are more organised now, but if you are looking for a logical, analytical and insightful review this wont be it, my brain is still jumbled after that episode!! 

Lets start at the cabin....seriously Serkan Bolat, hypochondriac who takes his pulse after coughing at the flower shop is going to stay in a remote cabin, with no obvious means of transport and communication?  He should be in the city near medical facilities after his serious crash and head injury. This is where you realise he has been isolated for a reason, so no one can visit or call him and put thoughts in his head.  Selin has created a perfect hideaway where he only hears her side of the story about Eda, and so the brainwashing begins.  Its unclear how long they have been there, i assume a few weeks, but this is long enough to get inside someone’s head and create a scenario, particularly when there are no other conflicting opinions and you have no memories of the person.  Selin is not happy about his decision to go back to Istanbul as she knows his friends may tell a different story to hers about Eda.

Engin is grieving for his best friend, so i loved their reunion, Serkan had a huge grin on his face and was also happy to see him. Serkan told Efe i have only got 3 friends, Engin Pryll and Sirius, and those were the ones that got the biggest welcome.

 When they all looked behind him as Eda appeared they honestly thought they were going to see a beautiful reunion and were all smiling 

This was an iconic scene, (yeah i cried), Eda walking slowly towards Serkan and the nod from Selin confirming this was Eda.  Touching his face as she does so often, making sure he is real and then as expected fainting, I am sure i heard Serkans heartbeat as he caught her.  What was more heartbreaking was that Selin, who has her phone glued to her hand most of the time, never bothered to show him a photo of Eda while they were in that cabin.  Ugh i hate this woman so badly.  I noticed that Serkan did not have a phone during this episode, so obviously lost at sea??  So how did he call Selin, this is something i still don’t understand, even if he used someone elses phone, he would not know her number by heart i am sure. 

Serkan telling her ”” Today is the first day i have seen your face”” and “”you are a stranger to me”” was harsh words to hear, and Handes acting here was superb, we really felt her pain.  There has been alot of complaints about Serkan and the way he treated Eda here, but we never really knew robot bolat, we saw him the day he met Eda, and things started changing in him soon after that.  We know Leyla called him her executioner, and we saw how he took care of Kaan when he took one of the projects from them.  he is ruthless, emotionless and logical in business.  And Eda as far as he is concerned is business, she owns 45% of her company, and he thinks he has been manipulated and blinded by her in order for her to get the shares. She made him look like a fool in front of his family and friends and he wont let her do it again.  We really have no idea at this stage what lies Selin has told

Loved the handcuff scene, Serkan driving Edas car was a sight i never expected to see!

Eda coming to his house showing him photos was heartbreaking, he refused to even look at them and just kept saying it wasn’t him, he really has put a wall up and wont listen to anything she says.  I was glad to see Engin supporting Eda to him, reminding him he also loved her and she had a right to be angry after what she has gone through in the last 2 months. I did feel sorry for Serkan here, he really has got information overload from everyone and he keeps saying he cant remember.  “Does Selin mean something to you?’, and all he can say is she is the only one in his life that hasn’t changed and therefore represents a safe place for him while he is recovering.  He has never loved Selin, he has made that very clear to her in the past, so nothing has changed.  She does a good job at work, doesn’t put demands on him and it is basically a business relationship.  There is no affection between them or chemistry, his heart belongs to Eda

I think Eda coming to his house has stirred up something and i am sure we saw flashbacks in the fragman of him sitting there among the photos looking sad. The next day at Aydan house, he keeps looking at her and looking away, He is drawn to her and is fighting the feelings.

As @lizacstuff reminded us in her brilliant review, Serkan said “If I lived a hundred times I would fall in love with you a hundred times”, he does not have to remember Eda in order to fall in love with her, and frankly makes for a beautiful story if this is what they are going to show us

I really cant wrap my head around Selin and her evil mind.  Surely she realises Serkan will get some memories back and when he does she is out of the door.  But she seems to think he will still choose her!  This is not just about Serkan its also about her getting revenge on Eda, she does not want her to be happy, and at the moment she is firmly in control of Serkan while his memories are still gone.  Its interesting that Serkan has made no mention to her of the images he is getting of a woman in a yellow dress, as I am sure this would panic Selin as she knows exactly what he is talking about.

I liked that Ferit warned her not to get too used to the situation, and she was swimming in dangerous waters, and in typical Selin bitch style she saw Ceren coming and asked him if he was jealous of her.  This woman is manipulating everyone who she thinks has wronged her and the worse she becomes the better her downfall will be and please can Eda be there for this one.

The final scene of Eda walking in to the cafe was perfect.  She knows the effect she has on Serkan and she made sure she was late so everyone would notice  Of course his circuits started smoking and he got some flashbacks, unfortunately he never see the face of the woman in them so does not know if it is Eda. When she went to him and his heart starting aching she knew then that his heart remembered their love.  The kiss completely confused him as he definitely felt something, and in his panic  he did the logical thing in his mind and proposed to Selin.  And what an awkward speech that was, he stumbled through it and said Selins name while looking at Eda.  Yes it was cruel, but in his mind, he wanted to shut everything down and make sure he was clear about not having any feelings for her.  He didn’t fool any of us!

Aydan....i am shocked that she hid the news of Serkan being alive from Eda, and also shocked that she did not bring him home, it makes no sense and just shows the depth of Selins manipulation, she is controlling everyone at he moment. 

Dennis is lovely, has been such a support to Eda, and will definitely cause some jealous scenes with Serkan

The acting this week from the lead characters was amazing, they never disappoint.  The long hours they put in day after day to bring us this brilliant show makes me in awe of them 

What i want to see in Episode 30

Small details, big difference - this is going to the the theme

We know we are getting the yellow dress, and i have the feeling that this will not be Edas idea.  Maybe she decides at the last minute to go to the party and asks Melo to bring her an outfit to the office for her.  Or if it is her idea, I hope she leaves her coat on until she is in front of Serkan, for maximum effect.  Dancing with Dennis in that dress will definitely being back jealous robot.

The colour changing mug needs to come back, I am hoping Seyfi has brought it to the house, or they go to the Art Life apartment and use it there.

Sirius going for walks with both of them

We know Serkan has some injury to his right hand, but i think they will leave that for 31 perhaps

I want to see Eda change tactics and become distant, this will intrigue Serkan more

We have seen Engin asking Serkan is he not a bit curious about Eda, and here i am hoping that he does look into her life more

Aydan......wow you are going to have to work hard to get any kind of redemption, but she is someone Serkan listens to and trusts, so lets hope she steps up her game and we know Seyfi will always be helping push Serkan and Eda together again.

The girls have been a great support to Eda, and will continue to be, but with Serkan not knowing them it is hard for them to get him to see the real eda.

Sorry this turned out far longer that expected....congratulations if you got to the end!

[maxwell-grant]

So, we all know you didn't like the two Batman/The Shadow crossover minis from a few years back. So, how would you have done it?

Honestly? I would have kept a lot of it largely as it was. Between the Denny O'Neil issues where The Shadow helps Batman overcome gun trauma, and this, we've had enough Batman crossovers.

But on the two recent minis, I think those crossovers had a lot of potential and both series started off on the right foot. I think the idea of integrating the two by establishing The Shadow as a hidden part of Batman's world for decades before the story was great, and the idea that he's done so in a way so expertly hidden to the point even Bruce can't tell who exactly he may have been, because he could have been anyone, was great! I also think the idea of The Shadow having to play catch-up by learning things from Batman is good, because regardless of how the story justifies his inclusion, he's still the intruder on Batman's superhero world, much as Batman becomes the intruder on the mystical pulp world that follows The Shadow. I'm not fundamentally opposed to The Shadow having a redemption arc. The idea of a crossover exploring their differences meaningfully? Great! Not at all what we actually got, but still a great idea.

A team-up between Ra's al Ghul and Shiwan Khan, with Khan getting a spiffy new design to demonstrate he's adapted to times much better than The Shadow? Perfect. Badass Granny Margo? Great. Damian in the mix having zero respect for both his old man as well as the older man who thinks he can boss him around? Perfect. The Shadow guiding Batman to the darkest secrets of his world as well as Batman guiding The Shadow back into the light to remember what he may have lost? Excellent, in theory. Allard and Bruce showing up in spiffy business suits to Wayne Co while Bruce claims he's a long lost relative? Great, and I was really onboard for "Uncle Allard meets the Batfamily" shenanigans that never happened. That whole scene of The Shadow out-laughing the Joker? Literal perfection, single-handedly justifies Joker's inclusion in the comic.

I was completely on board for this series when it began, and even after the ending of the first series soured me, I was still on board for the second one, and I gotta stress that there's a lot about them that works. I'm not gonna say they are bad comics just because they frustrate the hell out of me (although I still think the plotting could have been stronger and both series should have dialed down on supernatural shenanigans to focus on the mysteries being set-up), and I find myself tempted to like them when I think about it's virtues.

But when I think of how the story took a steaming shit all over Harry Vincent to reduce his entire character to a gibbering wreck who resented his whole life under The Shadow and said "he held a gun to my head for fifty years", and then a cowardly old man afraid of The Joker because he's being hold hostage?

Or this panel, and the idea of The Shadow somehow NOT remembering to look after the safety of his agents when it's his number one priority above everything else including his own life as proven multiple times over, or forgetting to pay them past their term, which is complete bull because financial security is literally the first thing The Shadow promised Harry on the very first story?

Or the idea that The Shadow, somehow, for 50 years, completely failed to notice that the same villain he was killing thousands of times over was actually multiple people, because he was too busy being a dumb idiot with a murder boner grooming Batman to take his place? Or everything regarding Batman's meeting with diet Cthulhus in Shambala?

That's when I wanna chuck something out the window.

So I guess if I had to point to how I'd do it, I guess the general idea would be to actually just stick to what they were already building up to in the initial issues. Just, wrap up the mysteries satisfyingly, tone down the Shambala nonsense, write The Shadow in-character, don't destroy his dynamic with the agents just because you can't write them, and explore their differences without making it all about how The Shadow sucks compared to Batman (don't make him better either, again, they are different characters with different legacies, I don't want one to be put over the other just because I like one better). If these were in it, I would actually have little but glowing praise for this comic.

Actually, how about this: The agents, the few ones still alive, go after Batman first, because they haven't seen The Shadow in a very long time, the last times they've seen him he's been much more distant and spookier than usual on top of somehow not having aged, and now that "Lamont Cranston III" has died, the only recourse they have is to try and get Batman. Of course, Batman doesn't know anything, he doesn't know these people or how they know him, because The Shadow's clouded his memories as well as those of a lot of people.

Why? Who knows (well, we know who), but then he fights a dramatic illusion who knows too much about his family, and now there's a horned monster on the mist, and Batman has to investigate a mystery much bigger than anything he could have anticipated, and he's not happy that someone unfamiliar is pulling his strings to get him there. So they fight, they make-up, work out their differences and get to it.