#and I dunno I. how could I not worry?? She is my world and leaving her behind is literally a nightmare eif mine

[bellflower-goat]

:l

[arlertwhore]

help - kate martin

pairing: kate martin x fem! reader synopsis: kate, your girlfriend comes over while your sick and "helps" you feel better ;) warning(s): smut, fingering, spit play, nipple play, nipple sucking, kate is the sweetest and talks you through it. word count: 1.4k author note: never saw the hype about her, saw an edit, and then BAM! i'm hooked now

Kate, your girlfriend, arrives as planned a couple of hours earlier, but now, you don't seem as cheerful and enthusiastic as yo u did over the phone. When she barges into your bedroom, exclaiming, "Daddy's Home!" to see you with your hoodie pulled over your head, surrounded by tissues and your comfort teddy on your bed, she pauses, thinking she's somehow messed up and you're going to break up with her even though she is literally the most perfect girlfriend in the world. Exemplified, she rushes over to your side of the bed and gently places a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N?" she asks hesitantly, "Is- did I-… are you okay?" Of course, Kate's asking how you are first. You smile at her lovingly, that smile you give her everytime you fall in-love just a little harder, and see her relax instantly. "I wish I could kiss you," you murmur weakly.

Kate furrows her naturally arched brows. "Wish?" she asks, a subtle smirk on her slightly parted lips as she leans in, blue eyes soft with intention. You jump up, holding her by her shoulders. "I dunno, something I ate, I think. I feel like crap now. I don't wanna pass it on to you, baby."

Kate's hands come up to her shoulders, interlacing with yours as she holds herself close to you. "I don't care," she whispers lovingly before leaning in and kissing you anyway. "It's worth it," she murmurs softly against your lips, her affection shining through.

When her hand comes to your cheek to draw you closer, she notices your warmth. "You're hot, babe," she remarks with concern. "Maybe it's this hoodie, let me help you."

You raise your arms and Kate takes it off, leaving you in your bra. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick? I would've stopped on the way here and picked you up something," she says, a mix of empathy and worry evident in her voice.

"Because I know you," you chuckle weakly, "You're gonna act like I'm dying and fuss over me and shit." "You mean, help?" she retorts playfully, and you roll your eyes. "Fine. Wanna help so bad, Martin?"

Her big hands come to your bare waist, drawing you close. "I do."

The way Kate speaks is so dreamy and enchanting. You can't help but fantasize she had just said that at your guys' wedding.

When you hop out of dreamland, you blink in surprise and realize you're currently straddling her lap as she sits back against the headboard, both hands on your ass, gently massaging it with care as she bores at your tits, still clad in your bra unabashedly. Due to your body temperature, they glisten in a soft sheen of sweat that highlights against your skin mesmerizingly.

And though Kate is staring at your body, touching it, and she looks enamored, when she comes up to meet your face, the look in her eye is glassier than moments ago, like your face is the ultimate gander.

"You're so pretty, gorgeous," she breathes, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter wildly, seemingly traveling to your pussy that flutters excitedly at the compliment, her touch, and her existence.

"Could you help me, Kate? Could you help me take my pants off?" you say in a peckish, sensual tone. "Anything," she whispers as she complies, turning you around on her lap and pulling them down in one desire driven go. You don't have to tell her what you need help with next. She unclasps your bra, leaving you fully naked. "What now?" she murmurs against your ear, her breath fanning it.

You catch her lips in a deep kiss, pulling her hands to your chest and letting her touch you there too. You feel her smile as she squeezes them gently, and with your still hands interlocked, she jiggles your tits in her hands. "Fingers," you moan, "I want your fingers." You plead eagerly.

It sends you into overdrive when Kate's lips come down to your neck, kissing and nibbling gently as her hand travels further south, down to your pussy, her free hand still on your tit as she teases your firm nipple gently. "Kate…" you drawl, "I'm so so wet for you, Kate, I can't wait any longer."

When she rubs your clit gently and rhetorically questions, "Are you? Couldn't tell." it's like your heart stops. Your head falls back onto her shoulder, and you moan loudly, close to her ear, which riles her up. She moves your hand to rest over her other shoulder, allowing her freer access to your nipple.

She starts sucking it as her middle finger slips into you smoothly, pushing into you like a piston and making all your slickness flow from your cunt onto the mattress below.

"Fuck, pretty, look at how messy you're being," Kate murmurs against your chest as she pumps into you, working you open slowly. "You like that? You like makin' a mess on my fingers?"

"Oh, fuck," you gasp as she speeds up. It takes all the power in you to not shut your legs and to answer her at the same time. "I do."

When her pointer finger enters you, the fullness makes your back arch up and off the bed with a heavy mewl. Kate's quick to hold you in place with her free hand pressing hard on your legs, trapping you, and with soft kisses to your jaw. "No, no, no, take it," she urges, "Open your legs again, baby, take it."

You comply, opening your legs again. When your mouth hangs open as you cry out, Kate gives you a small break and a reward for listening. She eases her fingers into your mouth, and you suck them eagerly, savoring your own taste and feeling pleasure build within you unbearably. Her other hand crooks your jaw down to meet hers in a kiss—or so you believe, until Kate isn't really kissing you, but tasting your spit instead, inadvertently your arousal.

After the exchange, she wets her fingers with her saliva and hurriedly places them back into your cunt, thrusting into you vigorously. Her touch is both intense and tender, igniting sensations that leave you whining for more. She drives deeper, then teasingly asks, "More? That good?" as she strokes the soft spot inside of you, causing your toes to curl and your lip to be bitten.

You nod fervently. "So good!" Your body responds eagerly, arching into her touch, craving more of the exquisite sensation she's delivering. The room fills with the sound of your moans, mixing with the rhythmic sounds of her movements.

Her touch is knowing; knowing exactly how to push you closer to the edge, exactly how to help, and exactly what gets you off. Your breath quickens, chest rising and falling rapidly as the arousal builds to its peak. Kate's gaze locks with yours, eyes lidded, mirroring the fire that burns within you.

"You're close?" Kate breathes, her voice throaty and husky.

You can only manage a breathless nod as pleasure consumes every inch of your being and her fingers continue their relentless rhythm, each thrust sending shocks of ecstasy through your body, pushing you closer to the peak of pleasure.

You feel the familiar tightness building in your core, a sign that release is imminent. Kate senses it too, her movements becoming more urgent, more determined. The tension in your muscles coils tighter, anticipation heightening as you teeter on the brink of ecstasy.

With a final deep thrust, Kate pushes you over the edge. Your whole body shudders with the intensity of your climax, pleasure washing over you in relentless phases. You cry out her name, your voice a mix of pleasure and gratitude as she talks you through it.

"Let it out, baby, just like that, yeahh, c'mon.." Collapsed against her, you feel her embrace, her touch soothing as you come down from the high. Your breaths slow, hearts pounding in unison as you savor the intimacy and connection you'd just shared.

"You feel any better, babe? Did that help?" Kate asked, her tone hopeful.

"Yeah, I think I've found the cure for what ails me," you quipped with a mischievous grin. "And what's that?" Kate inquired.

"Orgasms, Kate. Lots of orgasms," you replied playfully. MASTERLIST

AUTHOR NOTE #2: gosh kate kills me.. also, is that titties and beer photo like real? like FR? inbox me! i love reading them STILL.

[harrysfolklore]

buzzcut - blurb

this kinda sucks but it was on my drafts sooo why not, hope you enjoy !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

//

"I wonder how would I look with my head shaved." Harry randomly said one night both of you were cuddled up in bed.

"Where is that coming from, lovie?" You looked up at him, curious by his sudden statement.

"Dunno, I've never in my almost 30 years of age had a buzzcut," he shrugged, "I feel like It's part of manhood to shave your head at least once."

"Your manhood is just fine," you rolled your eyes with affection and pecked his chin, "But if you want to know how you'd look with no hair, you can always look for those AI pictures your fans have been making lately."

Harry laughed and kissed the crown of your head, leaving the conversation at that and focusing on the romantic comedy movie you picked for the night.

Days passed by and you soon forgot about your conversation and Harry didn't bring up his desire to shave his head again, so when he mentioned that he wanted to get a haircut you assumed that he was getting his usual trim.

Oh boy, were you wrong.

"I want to chop my hair a bit before we head to Vegas." He said a week before your trip, Jeff kept insisting that you needed to see the show he had been working on at the Sphere and you finally agreed.

"That's fine, just don't do anything extreme you know I love the curls." You replied, unaware of what he had up in his sleeve.

"Nothing to worry about, baby." You failed to notice the devilish smile on his face that gave away that he was planning something else.

The following day Harry told you that he was going to Ayae's place to get his haircut, which was weird to you because his hairdresser always came to your house to cut his hair, but you still didn't overthink it too much.

Until you got a text from her that read "Don't kill me or your boyfriend for what he made me do."

Just a minute after you got the text you heard the front door open and your name being called from downstairs.

"H are you home? Ayae texted me but I don't know what she means." You said as you made your way to him, he was standing in your living room, his hair being covered by the hood of his hoodie.

"I cut my hair," he said and a confused frown made its way to your face, "And I'm going to show it to you, but you need to promise me you won't freak."

"Why would I freak? Why are you acting so weird about it?"

Harry only smiled and pulled the hood from his head, revealing that his brand new buzzcut.

You stood in your place for a few minutes before reacting, "Is this some kind of joke?"

"It's not love! I shaved it," he got closer to you, a big smile on his face, “Do you like it?”

“Oh my god! Your hair is really gone! What the fuck, Harry.” You laughed in disbelief, grabbing his face to get a better look at him.

“I told you I wanted to give it a try before my twenties ended, remember?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” you shook your head, “This is crazy! Does Jeff know? Forget about him does your mom know? Oh my god we need to facetime her right now.”

Harry laughed at your rant, “Jeff knows love, he wants to shave his too, and we’ll facetime mum later,” he pecked your lips quickly, “Now wipe that look off your face! You’re looking at me like I’m an alien!”

“This is just so weird, but also such a you thing to do,” you pecked his lips back, “Your fans are going to be absolutely nuts about this.”

“Lord, that’s what i’m dreading the most.”

A week later you and Harry were standing in the crowd of U2's concert at the Las Vegas Sphere, surrounded by friends and other concertgoers.

Somehow Harry's new look gave him a little more privacy, since the world didn't know that his signature brown curls were gone and he could go unnoticed sometimes.

"You've been busted." You said as you noticed a phone camera filming the both of you, Harry was standing behind you with his hand protectively gripping your neck.

"What, love?" He asked, making you discretely point at the person with the camera.

"Well, I guess the madness stars now."

A day later, pictures and videos of Harry's new haircut flooded the internet, making his fans go crazy once again.

taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin n @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia a @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe @drewrry

[jungle-angel]

A Bed For My Family (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: You and Rhett can't stand the thought of having to temporarily leave the ranch with Amy, but you know that you'll be safe in Montana for just a little while

Warnings: Breastfeeding, Perry being a douche canoe etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse

Rhett had just finished brewing a mug full of the flavored coffee, ready to close up the house for the night, when Royal came striding in, hanging his cowboy hat and jacket up on the hook.

"You ok Dad?" Rhett asked, noting the tired, worried expression in Royal's face.

"Ran into the judge when I went to go and get mine and (y/n)'s meds at the pharmacy," Royal explained.

"Somethin happen?"

Royal didn't want to tell him, but knew that he'd have to anyways. "Perry made bail this mornin."

Rhett's eyes went a little wide. "The fuck happened?" he asked.

"I dunno," Royal answered. "All I know is that he made bail and he's loose. I asked if there was anything that could be done, but he said not for a while."

"So what does this mean for me and (y/n)?" Rhett asked.

"Means ya'll are gonna have to completely disappear for a while," Royal told him. "You both need to take Amy and leave Wabang until things can get settled."

"How long till we can come back?" Rhett asked again. "What about the ranch?"

"We'll manage," Royal answered. "We've got the hands and it's a good thing too, they hate Perry's guts, same as the rest of us. All I know is that it's gonna be a while, Rhett. I don't know how long, but it's for our sake as well as you guys. I don't want nothin happenin to that baby, you or (y/n)."

Rhett could feel a hot lump burning in his throat, his chest tightening and his eyes beginning to blur at the thought of it. "Dad I......I dunno if we can even do this?"

"Rhett," Royal said. "Do not ask me to watch you risk life and limb for Amy. She needs you and you're the only dad she's got. Her biological father's a piece of shit and the mother ran out on her. You and (y/n) are all she's got in this world. If I tell ya'll to go, then ya'll need to go now."

Rhett's jaw clenched a little. His father was right. Ever since you and him had taken her from birth, you and Rhett were the only parents she would ever know. God forbid something should happen to the both of you or to her.

"Ok," he croaked. "Ok......"

Royal hugged his son, himself strained by the thought of you and Rhett leaving with his and Cecelia's grandbaby. "Promise ya'll it'll be ok," Royal croaked. "One way or another."

Rhett trudged his way up the stairs to see if you were still awake and sure enough, you were, snuggling Amy in the rocker. The dim glow of her little Sleeping Beauty nightlight was the only light to be found in the room. You looked like a goddess in Rhett's eyes as you held her, himself taken by your soft features that seemed to show more in that dim light.

"I finally got her to sleep," you whispered.

Rhett knelt next to you and kissed Amy's little head. She had only been home a day and a half, so brand new to this world and the both of you desperate to protect her.

"Dad says we've gotta go," he said.

"Where?" you asked as a pang of fear welled inside of you.

"Up to John's in Montana," Rhett answered. "He said Perry made bail this morning and there's a chance he could come after us."

You were terrified. You knew that Perry had been arrested for trying to go after Rebecca and had almost succeeded. You remembered after Amy had been born by C-section, Rhett sitting in the hospital rocker with her, Amy's tiny form snuggled against his naked chest as he vowed to protect her from any danger in the world.

"When do we have to go?" you asked nervously.

"Tomorrow night," Rhett answered. "I'll pack a little tonight and in the morning and then we'll load up and be gone by dinner. Whatever we can't take with us, we'll get on the road."

You felt the tears coming, unsure of how long it would be until you and Rhett could return. But one thing had been certain, that no matter where you and Rhett would go......you would always return.

*************************

It was a hectic night and morning, packing what little you could both take with you and loading up the truck for the six hour drive ahead to Bozeman. Cecelia had packed a few of Amy's blankets, her favorite lovey that she had made and her little flop-eared bunny stuffie.

"Lets get ya'll bundled up, princess," Royal said, his clumsy fingers snapping the last little gold button on Amy's pink knit sweater.

"Dad, you got her?" Rhett asked him.

Royal carefully slipped her little knit cap onto her head before picking her up. He kissed the side of her head as she sucked away on her pacifier, not wanting to let her go.

"Dad?"

Rhett hadn't seen his father shed a tear in a long time, not since Grandpa River had passed away. Royal sniffed back the tears as he handed Amy off to Rhett, a cry beginning to well in her throat before Rhett calmed her right down.

"Ya'll take care son," Royal told him. "Give our best to John."

Rhett nodded. You and him both hugged his parents before you gently laid Amy in her carseat, buckling her in and covering her with one of the knitted blankets Cecelia had made for her. Much to your surprise too, Ruby and Diesel jumped into the truck as well without a single objection from Royal or Cecelia. Both of them assured you that things would be fine and that Tiny and Willie were safely locked up in the book barn with their kittens.

It saddened you both to have to pull out of the driveway and get on the road, but you watched and waved until your in-laws and their ranch were nothing more than a speck in the distance. You heard Rhett sniff back his own tears from up front and a high pitched whine from Diesel, the burly rottweiler who had been Rhett and Royal's companion since puppyhood.

It was without a doubt, the longest road trip the two of you had ever been on, much longer than the one you had taken when you and Rhett were in college. Amy had slept a good three and a half hours before she woke up hungry and just in time for Rhett to pull into the nearest gas station for snacks and to fill the truck. You fed Amy as soon as you had pulled in, amazed that she had latched onto you so quickly. Being on the lactation medicine had been a pain in the ass, but you knew it would be better for Amy in the long run.

It wasn't too long before you had at last crossed into Montana, the traffic in Billings reaching ludicrous proportions as the sun began to set. After another good two and a half hours, you finally reached the Dutton Yellowstone Ranch, the truck snaking its way up the long gravel drive and into the bright porch lights.

John ventured out into the subzero, snowy night to greet the both of you. "Your dad told me ya'll were comin," he said.

"Took our sweet time gettin here too," Rhett laughed, his teeth beginning to chatter.

"C'mon, ya'll get inside," John told him. "It's gonna dip down into single digits tonight and nobody's sleeping in their cars."

John hurried to help you both unload, taking Amy's carseat with the sleeping baby inside and leaving Rhett to help you out of the truck. Diesel and Ruby went ahead of you both, scratching at the front door until you opened it and John let you both in.

He let you leave your suitcases at the door before you could kick off your boots and coats, hanging everything on the hooks and sticking your shoes on the hard plastic mat. Rip and Beth were still up but Kayce and Monica were busy elsewhere putting two year old Tate to bed.

"Alright, one for you," John said, handing you a mug full of coffee. "And one for the cowboy."

"Thanks Uncle John," Rhett replied, taking the mug.

"Not a worry," he said, lifting Amy out of her carrier. "Heard ya'll had a hell of a time gettin up here."

"Yeah but we're damn glad to be here," you told him.

John could agree one hundred and ten percent. It may not have been the best of circumstances, but he was glad to have you, Rhett and Amy on any given day, especially now.

[awkward-walking-potato]

I'm not really sure if this req is your kinda thing? Plz feel free to ignore if it's not! Established relationship with Remy, and then there's a multiverse event and f!Remy is also hanging around and good god she's hot and she starts flirting with you and gay panik?

Every Gambit Wants Me

In a world where the multiverse was becoming more and more unpredictable, you were used to seeing strange things. Hanging out with Remy LeBeau, had its perks, but it also came with its fair share of surprises—particularly when it came to multiverse travel.

It had been another one of those accidental jumps through realities, and you and Gambit landed in a world that felt familiar...but slightly off. The streets of New Orleans had the same smell of gumbo and smoke, the same jazz lingering in the air, but something was different. You glanced at Remy, his red eyes glowing slightly under the streetlights, and he flashed you one of those charming, roguish grins.

"Dis ain't home, chérie," he said in his smooth Cajun drawl. "But I reckon we gon' make the best of it, non?"

You laughed softly, used to his easy charm by now. "Yeah, well, let's just hope this version of New Orleans doesn't have anything too crazy in store."

Before Remy could respond, a figure approached from the shadows. Your eyes widened in surprise. She looked exactly like him—the same mischievous eyes, the same tousled brown hair falling in front of her face—but this version of Gambit...was a woman.

"Well, well, well," she said, her voice dripping with the same sultry accent as Gambit's. "What do we have here?"

The female Remy circled the two of you, her eyes lingering a little too long on you. "Ain't every day a girl gets to meet someone from a different universe... especially someone as lovely as you." She smirked, her gaze heated as she stopped in front of you. "Seems I got myself an upgrade from my usual company."

Gambit stiffened beside you but didn't interrupt. He was intrigued, just as much as you were. Female Gambit leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear.

"You know," she whispered, "I could show you a real good time. Better than any man ever could. Ain't nobody knows you like me, sugar. You like what you see?"

You felt your cheeks heat up, her proximity setting your nerves on fire. She was undeniably attractive, and that confidence—that you recognized from your Gambit. But she had an extra layer of boldness, not held back by the same reservations. You opened your mouth to say something, but she kept going, brushing a hand across your arm.

"Let me guess. You’re with him, ain't ya?" she teased, gesturing toward your Gambit. "But I bet you’ve wondered what it’d be like...with someone who knows how you like it. Someone who's you, but different."

Your Gambit chuckled lowly behind you. "Careful, mon chérie. She might be prettier, but I ain't one to be outdone."

Female Remy shot him a smirk, leaning in even closer to you. "I dunno about that, sugar. You might like this version better."

Your heart was racing, torn between the two Gambits. There was something thrilling about this version of him—the flirtation, the danger, the electricity in the air.

"Don't worry," Gambit said, stepping up beside you with a grin that matched hers. "Ain't no jealousy here. I know what you like." His hand came up to gently tilt your chin toward him. "You could take her up on it...but even in dis multiverse, every Gambit’s got eyes for you. She’s just like me."

Female Remy laughed softly, her eyes dancing between you and your Gambit. "He's not wrong, you know. Every version of us is obsessed with you, sugar." She winked. "But if you ever wanna see just how different I can be, you know where to find me."

She gave one last flirtatious smile before walking off into the shadows, leaving you standing there, still caught between two versions of the same man. You turned to your Gambit, his expression a mix of amusement and satisfaction.

"Guess you really do have a type," you said, feeling the heat from the encounter still lingering.

Remy wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. "Cherie, there's only one of me for you, no matter how many multiverses we end up in. But I can’t blame her for trying—every version of me knows a good thing when they see it."

You couldn’t help but smile. After all, no matter how many versions of Gambit there were, the one right in front of you was the one you’d choose, every time.

[unlikelyjapan]

s2e9 rewatch notes (part 1)

Omelette - I'm hoping I can pull through and finish this rewatch in its entirety before I leave on vacation. While the analysis is fun, the actual act of watching the show feels very masochistic vs. last season, which I must have watched a dozen times.

The-not-sexy-sex-scene: It's interesting that the credits start to roll on a black backdrop before we even get the blue-hued (read: frozen) sex scene, and its set to a song that was written about a death/funeral (The Day the World Went Away by NIN).

As a bit of context, Trent Reznor's grandmother (who raised him after his parents flaked out) died right before the release of The Fragile, and this song was thought to be written as a reflection of her funeral. I know they didn't include any lyrics in the scene (that would be too on-the-nose for a director that delights in subterfuge), but in no world is this a happy or lustful track - it's frail, wistful, and entirely about something (someone) that has been lost.

There's some laughter in there, if you squint, but it's mostly intense and needy glances replete with swinging chain for the feral audiences sake. The stark/open "little death" eyes at the end (as Claire is presumably sleeping ) punctuate the scene UNTIL....

.....Sydney is buttoning up her coat (i.e. getting frigging dressed) in the very next beat, frustration in her voice as she notices the stains on her whites (God, is this a sheets parallel?) .

This is hot on the trail of her getting undressed (revealing her 3 of swords tattoo) at the end of s2e7 as Carmy and Claire make out in the split montage, which is the only reason I'm thankful this was released as a binge series this year.

There's not much more to elaborate on here that hasn't been discussed in this brilliant analysis by @belassima- the classic "getting dressed after a sexual encounter" trope turned on its head. We don't see Claire again until friends & family, and this is wholly on purpose. I'm suing Christopher Storer for damages after the series finale.

Syd and her Dad have such an enviable synergy - but you can tell she's over leaning on him as her "person". He's checking in on her stomach (foreshadowing the dumpster scene) and acts as her lone hype man. "I don't know how you do what you do, but I am excited".

Emmanuel - "I never want you to feel like you have to make everything the thing."

a.k.a - "You know, there are other fish in the sea."

Sydney - "Why can't we put everything we have into everything that we can"

a.k.a - "I want to funnel everything into catching this one - this is a borrowed quote from my soulmate business partner."

Emmanuel - "Baby, if that's true, then why put so much pressure on this one?"

a.k.a - "What is the reason/what is so particularly special about this fresh hell you've been subjecting yourself to?"

Sydney - "Because.....I don't know if I could do another one"

Ok - more nuance is required here. According to Syd hivemind, the answers range from "Syd's been burned in a relationship/partnership before", "Syd also has Lupus", or purely "Syd has failed too many times and is scared". We still don't know enough about her past, but I tend to look at this through a strictly fearful/nihilistic prism - she feels like she can't take any more heartache (along with the physical and financial ramifications) from another crash-and-burn endeavor.

But Emmanuel's worried eyes tell a bigger story after she delivers this line, so.....I dunno! I hope S3 covers this understanding gap in a big way.

Strange Currencies playing overhead of the city, taking us to the ally where Carmy is having THE panic attack. I transcribed every image he cycles through while the song plays backwards:

*Sex scene of Carmy staring down expressionless at Claire in bed, Claire leaning down to kiss Carmy.

*An old picture of Claire staring straight ahead, a Sweet 16 birthday picture of her sticking out her tongue in a tiara, one of Carmy's drawing of her with glasses from class. Cut to a flash of Claires face with a wry smile in sepia lighting, followed by another one that is similar but almost taunting. These sepia images get creepier as the panic attack escalates, but also more focused.

*Another drawing of Claire smiling with glasses with Mikey's voice echoing in the background "the motherfucking glasses came off!"

*Another old picture of Claire smiling without glasses, followed by another.

*Mikey and Richie and another "the motherfucking glasses came off!" soundbite.

*Drawing of Claire in glasses again for a brief flash, followed by Carmy and Claires first kiss at The Bear.

*"Carm, this is a good thing" with Stevie, as Carmy crumples to the ground in the ally.

*Claire up-close in sepia sort of half-wistful/half-scruitinizing Carmy

*Donna screaming "fuck you" and Mikey braying at the dinner table, Lee reacting, a dish smashing.

*Sepia Claire turning and smiling to the camera.

*More braying and fuck-you's from Mikey and Lee

*Just Claire's eyes in Sepia-mode, staring across at him with a joker-esque smile as the braying and swearing and fighting continues.

*Donna screaming "are you motherfuckers okay!?"

*The drawings of The Bear in Mikey's hands, him looking up affectionately at Carmy.

*Donna slapping Carmy - Carmy looks up in the ally as if something has slapped him out of it.

Donna and Mikey summon Sydney after this - Mikey with the acknowledgment of his dream (The Bear) and an ounce of brutality from Donna (as in: how dare you care about me, Carmen). These two figures, engines of chaos and trauma, steer him towards Sydney's first words to him.

"Hi, Hello..."

*Strange currencies - "These words* You were the most excellent CDC at the most excellent restaurant in the entire United States of America. What are you doing here I guess?" *you will be mine. You will be mine all the time*

I....I don't understand how the panic attack is ambiguous for people off of this site. I don't understand why it's not noted in reviews and think pieces. I don't understand why otherwise smart people put forth simplistic narratives like "Carmen just needs to make peace with his family" or "he fumbled Claire, his shot at happiness." I just don't understand.

Sydney passing Verdana "Now fool might be my middle name" as she stares down at the sign saying they will be permanently closed May 1st - along with the instrumentals, a clock ticks in the background. A flash of Nilah's face is interspersed, smiling back at her. "But I'd be foolish not to say..."

If this is an ellipse to a "Carmy loves Syd, Syd is fully gay" moment in later seasons, I'll be pretty disappointed since that would be a too-easy way to shut things down.

On first viewing, I took it as "Syd sees herself in Nilah" - she aspires to be her, Nilah gave her forewarning about partnerships that aren't official, Nilah was empowered, optimistic, and in control....and Nilah has not succeeded, highlighting Sydney's anxieties about failure at the same time Carmy is cycling through his own debris.

But the song lyrics are ambiguous, and everything is on purpose, and god damn I hate what fan theories have done to my mind.

Anyone catch that on the F&F menu listed on the whiteboard (as Natalie enters to sit with Carmy) the course of Seven Fishes is followed by the Bolognese? The feast was followed by the meal he prepared for Claire being served at friends and family? Yeah, I did.

The mother father painting - I feel like everyone was riffing on this during the earlier part of the week. The absolution of the mother due to the absent father. Syd being the mother (present) and Carmy being the father (absent). Donna (alive) vs. Mikey (dead). The idea of family haunting the dining room. The idea that this painting in the restaurant supplants what is trying to be built (found family). I suppose the parallels are endless here.

It's also just a truly shitty painting, a gauche reminder of Carmy's absence/inattentiveness.

"What exactly is a ServSafe certificate"?

Carmy was most definitely deflecting, he's a well-venerated chef. There are moments of inconsistency in the show that I let slide (giardiniera a la minute? bitch please) but there had to be a reason for this - his fatigue, his guilt, his inattentiveness reaching a breaking point.

Once he says "I'm fine on mom" Natalie sees it all coming to a head.

Sydney stickering her little Coach K vision board as she arrives for her shift. I just realized she doesn't really start paying attention to the book (a dorky 'go get 'em' gift from her Dad) until Carmy ditches her at Kasama. Coach K exists in the leadership void left by Carmy - it seems so sad to watch her pre-game by bejeweling a picture of a middle-aged man, but that sad pseudo-prayer card is the closest thing she's got to a north star right now.

Also, she's been fixated on and extolling the virtues of Coach K to Carmy all season and is met with....complete incuriosity, I guess? He never prods further, even when he sees her making this dinky thing for her station. It's almost like he knows, on a subconscious level, that this guy is supplanting him as Syd's guide.

But it's also her finding her own voice through advanced mentorship, which is great.

Carmy pointing at those aforementioned stains, Syd undressing in front of him, Carmy making plans to dress her again, them mutually deciding to dress in matching clothes until service. I cannot guys, I cannot.

Carmy getting spit-roasted for his deflection from Nat & Syd ("I know you just missed him *eyeroll*" "Do you have a phone these days?") - I feel like he's so under fire/exposed that he doesn't even recognize of the gravitas of the "I need your focus like you need mine" comment at first.

"What's your relationship with your mom like?" This scene has been discussed to death on here, I don't really have any new insights as it relates to Carmy/Syd and their maternal links or timing. I think the part that hasn't been explored much is Carmy's frustration with Nat which is thinly veiled as concern.

We saw in Fishes that Mikey and Carmy (and Donna) blame Nat for provoking bad behavior with her concern and neediness. Carmy says "she's expecting a miracle" like she's the sole sibling that enabled their mother. By way of Donna's disease and (I presume) unwillingness to seek help, the Berzatto kids really only had two options - enable by pacifying, or GTFO.

Mikey could be as atrocious as Donna. Donna is atrocious. Carmy played soothe-sayer and then left at 18. Natalie tries to cultivate some sense of family - the same family Carmy pays homage to via his restaurant, his menu, his girlfriend, Richie, his endless self-flagellation - but is resented for her own wayward attempts, even though they're very explicit expressions of love (sometimes) and longing (always). There's some really gnarly projection happening there that I expect will rear its head more in S3 between the two of them.

Cue Carmy being a douche to New Noise (although I love that little moment where he cock-blocks Connor, the new chef, and Tina smiles to herself a little).

Tina's been working tirelessly alongside Sydney and asks "Carmen, do you even have a phone?" as Syd tells him the contractor for the shelving called him eleventy-thousand times. There is a lot of emasculation happening on his own restaurant floor (formerly The Beef, the temple of gross masculinity) between the trifecta of Syd/Nat/Tina this episode, and it's only ratcheting up the defensiveness - his excuses and deflections fall flat, but he's not listening or learning yet.

Marcus' dessert check, (with Syd and Carmen looking like a panel of matchy-matchy top chef judges on the other side of the table):

Sydney is looking at Carmy with affection as Marcus receives a package from Denmark (whereas Carmen doesn't even react) - it's the second time she's looked at him like that in the conversation (the first being "workshopping the name") but it's been a long while since she's projected admiration his way. She sees how much he's done for Marcus in cultivating the whole customized Copenhagen experience for him, she sees his service, she sees her values humbly and quietly executed by him.

The Michael 😭 followed by the silence and "You can throw down, huh?" - what a perfect moment of TV.

I'm pausing here for tonight before my grammar falls apart (if it hasn't already), I'll unpack the rest tomorrow.

[fipindustries]

a gay romantic comedy

because its the genre of movie i most grew up with my brain cant stop coming up with ideas for all family romantic comedies and one specific idea wont leave my brain: a straight guy who realizes he is gay. So now that im bed ridden with some mysterious illness ill take the time to get into it.

Warning: this gets stupid long.

Now you have to understand, the specific genre im thinking of is mid 2000s romantic comedy, so this straight guy, he is like aggresively heteronormative. He is kind of doofy, a little douchey but with a heart of gold. He is scott pilgrim. He is the type of guy that could have been played by paul rudd or ben stiller or seth rogen, right?

The movie starts with him going through a breakup with a girl, she complains that he never pays her attention, he never shows affection because he is too lost in his world of videogames and pot and, oh btw, he is lousy in bed. She storms off and he can barely muster the energy to call her back. He seems despondent but also kind of relieved.

So he goes to hang out with his stoner friends to lick gis wounds, and these guys are like the prototypical douchebags, james franco is tgere, jonah hill is there, fucking matthew lillard is there. And they are laughing it off and trying to tell him that he should "totally forget that bitch dude, there is always fresh pussy". They also take the chance to make fun of him a little for all his previois short lived failed relationships with women.

And then one of the whips out a gay porn because he claims "one of the actors there totally looks like jonah dude, is like really fucked up" and our protagonist, lets call him paul, is like, "aw i dunno guys, i dont think i want to watch this, i never watched gay porn before" and we cut to a series of flashbacks where he was raised by hilariously catholic parents who told him if he ever masturbated his fand would catch gangreene.

But they ignore him and put on the movie and first of all the actor does not look at all like jonah, at most they both have a jewfro, second as the scene goes on and the guys are laughing their asses off and going on about how "gross" and "fucked up" it is and can you believe some people are into this shit? Paul is slowly realizibg that, oh fuck, this is actually doing it for him. So he tries to disimulate and act normal but he is swea12ting and he clearly has a boner and is breathing hard and one of the guys asks "hey are you ok?" And he says some quick excuse to run out.

We cut to him running down the streets of downtown at night and he is freaking out because wherever he sees he sees hots guys in billboards and construction workers that look really buff and maybe he collides against a freddy mercury impersonator who offers him a hand when he falls to the ground that he rejects as he runs back to his apartment.

Once he is there he tries to prove to himself that he is definetly not gay so he tries to watch a normal straight porn but as it goes on he realizes he is looking at the guy not the girl. Then he sees his room is filled with posters of rambo and silvester stallone and he tears them down and its all a hilariously over the top breakdown. He flushes is macho action figures down the toilet, he tries to throw away his wolverine comics, at one point he is about to throw a vhs of chuck norris out the window but hen he realizes he just cant do it and collapses on the groubd crying

Next day he wakes up in the middle of his kitchen by the banging of the door, it is the one positive female influence he has in his life, his sister, who heard what happened and wants to see if he is ok.

He is like "im not ok" and he goes on about how he has "big news, terrible, terrible news" and he makes a huge deal out of it and the sister (played by, lets say, meg ryan) is like really worried and he finally is like "im gay!!! :((((("

And the sister is like "thats it?" And he is like "what do you mean thats it!?"

And then she completly deflates the tension and gives a speech about how its [current year] and its totally normal to be gay now a days and starts listing a bunch of celebrities that ard out and proud. So this calms him down a little and she goes on to say that this is actually a great opportunity for him, he just discovered there is a whole new flavor of ice cream he can enjoy and all the new doors this opens and is basically the speech the therapist gives to mel gibson in "what women want" and paul starts realizibg this could actually be an interesting experiment. What finally seals the deal is the sister saying "you know how you always had a hard time with girls? Well imagine now how much easier it should be for you to be with guys"

So then we go on to a montage of the guy exploring his new identity, maybe a shopping sequence where he tries a bunch of stereotipical gay outfits where his sister shakes her head at every single one. He goes to watch broadway shows, we see him watching will and grace or the ellen show. And finally the big one, he goes to a gay bar.

He is uncomfortable at first because he has no idea of the culture or the scene. Maybe he hits it off with a bunch of dudes, eventually he relaxes and starts to have fun. By the end of the night he walks off with like party hats and novelty glasses and confetti but, oh no! He comes across his douchy friends!

They ask him what is going on and "why is he dressed like a fag" and paul is stuttering, freezing in front of the headlights, not knowing what to say when a big dude we dont recognize walks in and he is like "hey! You forgot your acting check, for the short film you just acted in (wink wink)" and he bails paul in front of his friends. The friends walk off satisfied and paul is thanking the buff guy profusely and the guy is like "dont worry about it, after all, us fags have to stick together"

By the way the guy is none other than hugh jackman.

They immediatly hit it off. Its a meet cute. They have chemistry and a lot of fun. We get to another sequence of paul trying to figure out how to date a guy after years of only dating girls. He brings him flowers and chocolates, he tries to open the door for him at restaurants and pay for the check. At this hugh explain he doesnt have to treat him like a girl and insists on splitting the check. So then paul, wracking his brain for ideas for dates tries to invite him to a romantic comedy but hugh is like "actually i like to go see underground wrestling".

This opens a new set of funny highjinks were they are there watching the show and maybe paul gets dragged into the fight because this is a funny comedy world where wrestling is real. And there are lots of funny slapstick and hugh rescues him and carries him off in a reference to the movie "the bodyguard".

There are other funny scenes we can do like them going to pride parade or maybe paul and hugh coming across the catholic parents and through a series of misunderstandings and wordgames (maybe encouraged by paul to stay in the closet) the parents think hugh is like a roomate or a coworker "we share a room, we sleep in bunkbeds, uh, hugh likes to be the top [rimshot]"

Then finally comes the big moment. They are in bed together, they are making out, things are getting really steamy and hugh starts making advances to take paul's pants off. Maybe, agains because of misunderstandings, hugh thinks pauls wants to bottom and then the last remains of pauls heteronormativity kick in and he freaks out. He pushes hugh off, makes a huge scene. Maybe says some hurtful things, hugh is clearly upset at this and starts talking about how he is tired of paul hiding him or whatever. Its a huge fight. Paul storms off.

We have out obligatory sequence before the third act where our protagonists sulks and reflects on his choices and he is back to hanging out with his stoner friends who are saying a bunch of homophobic jokes and how things are "totally gay" and "dude that is so fucking gay" and maybe they are at the park jeering at a lesbian couple. And the paul decides he had enough and finds the courage to stand up to his friends.

He starts by telling them to cut it off with the homo jokes and calling bad things gay all the times and what is wrong with being gay anyway? And his friends are like "what are you? Gay?"

And he proudly says "yes, i am"

And his friends are all shocked into silence.

" now if you excuse me, i have to apologize with my boyfriend"

And then he runs off, and maybe the lesbians he defended yell "go get it white boy!"

So he has to run across the city to find his boyfriend, and the pop rock song swells in the background.

Now hugh is probably at a big event like an art gallery or a baseball game or maybe at an airport. The point is that is a big space with a big crowd, maybe for extra points pauls parents are there as well.

So paul comes in and does a big emotional gesture where he apologizes to hugh in front of everyone and he loudly comes out of the closet in front of all of new york (because of cpurse this happens in new york, in fact fuck it, its christmass too). And there is a big applause and he kisses hugh in front of everyone and maybe the mother comically faints.

And then hugh is like, really touched, but also there was no need to do this whole scene. "Paul, im a switch"

We cut to an epilogue years later where they are getting married in central park, and everyone is there. The sister is crying of happyness, the parents are lightly clapping through gritted teeth, the stoner friends are actually there and they are cheering and hollering and doing a big ruckus.

Hugh throws the bouquet of flowers and maybe jonah hill grabs it and he looks around and, why the fuck not, there is the gay porn star that sort of looks like him and he winks.

Our happy couple rides off into the sunset. The end.

Depending on how edgy we want to be we can have scenes of them doing hardcore gay sex during the credits, otherwise just a scene of both of them in bed after the sex, we get one last chance for our actors to improv some funny lines while "you get what you give" by the new radicals plays over the credits.

The end

[piratefishmama]

Crossing The Line | Part 9

“Eddie. Dude. You have to stop pacing, you’re gonna wear a hole in the goddamn floor and we ain’t covered for that.”

Eddie did not stop pacing, he just turned on his heel and went in the other direction, starting a fresh line in the floor. “But what if— nah, he wouldn’t… I doubt it, no he was probably just—but then what if—"

“Man, you’re spiralling, if he’s gonna come, he’s gonna come, if he doesn’t, then he doesn’t, what’re you worried about, you don't even like the guy” Eddie didn’t stop pacing. “Unless… Do you?”

“I… may have… actually looked into him?”

“You what?”

“After he turned up at the coffee shop! He was just… he was nice, dude, and… an he had no reason to be, at all, I was a bitch for a whole week towards him for no reason, but he was nice, and funny, and he can sing even if he can’t do shit with metal, he can sing, and… his photoshoots don’t touch up shit he really is that pretty, and I think i'm going to spontaneously combust and die if he turns up tonight dressed to blend in.”

“Wow.”

“Leave me alone!”

“Okay, so, what did you find out on your deep dive through Instagram?” Eddie finally stopped pacing. They were in what the bar deemed to be a ‘green room’ which was really just a room in the back for bands to get their shit together before the gig started, Corroded Coffin always turned up a good hour or so early to make sure everything was set, and of course, get rid of any pre-gig jitters. Gareth was the only one completely ready, his drums were already out there, set up and covered by a black sheet waiting for their time to shine, and his outfit was sorted ages ago.

So Gareth was the one currently in charge of dealing with Eddie, while the other two primped elsewhere.

“Not just Instagram, Jesus, imagine if I’d have scrolled too far back and liked a pic from like, 2001 by accident. How about no to that inevitable mortification. I googled.”

“You googled.”

“Yes I googled!! Did you know that he donated like, ninety-something percent of his earnings from a bullshit rom-com soundtrack deal to LGBT charities across the US after they cut a lesbian couple out of it?”

“No…”

“Neither did I! The fucker didn’t tell anyone!! I HAD TO DEEP DIVE INTO ROBIN’S INSTAGRAM! Trust me that was a scary thing to do, she’s scary. but he pulls that shit all the time apparently!” It wasn’t for publicity, it wasn’t to make himself look good to a demographic, he did it because he could. Because he wanted to. “Did you know he regularly terrorizes producers and directors into offering fair contracts for their child actors and young muscians like a goddamn world class showbiz babysitter?”

“…Nope.”

“Neither did I!! Did you know that he got PERMISSION to sing Crazy Train from the actual goddamn Osbornes? Cause I sure as shit didn’t know that either! He spoke to Sharon, DIRECTLY, Gareth, DIRECTLY. What the actual fucknuggets on fire, does he want with me?!”

“I dunno, to kiss you maybe?”

“WHY?!”

“Can’t claim to have an answer dude, you’re not exactly my type. Maybe you’re his, he did come all this way, right?”

“Pretty sure he could find a weird metalhead in his own damn town, y’know?”

“Maybe it’s not the metalhead thing, I dunno Eds, I just know that maybe this guy will be in the crowd, and if he is, hell yeah, you have managed to secure probably thee best opportunity we’ve ever had in the history of ever, by… being a bitch.”

“We’ve ever had?” Eddie looked at him with a small frown

“Yeah man! Steve Harrington is a huge star in the music world. Dude probably has his own goddamn recording studio in his place… maybe if it goes well… we could ask him if we could use it, save us some cash on a recording studio for demos.”

“…Dude. That’s. That’s kinda taking advantage isn’t it? An I’m not whoring myself out to get free studio time.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it, BUT if you start dating this guy—"

“Gare, anything you say that relates to me using my first potential relationship as a step ladder to fame, is SUPER shitty. Let’s not do that. If he offers, then… maybe, but… that’s not—I wouldn’t even think about asking for that, we wanna get where we’re going on our own, not have it handed to us, right?”

“Well… yeah but… a helping hand would be nice sometimes, y’know? Get us out of playing these shitty dive bar gigs and into the big leagues, you know I can’t stand part time work filling the gaps in the wages, man, retail managers always suck donkey dicks. I cannot work another summer at Staples, they have like no AC, it’s torture, it’s like an oven in there and Ralph doesn’t wear deodorant, he claims it’s an allergy, but I know, I know it’s not, he does it as a power thing it’s weird. This… could be our ticket out.”

“Steve isn’t a ticket. Maybe stop digging a grave you can’t climb out of, yeah? I know I wasn’t the best towards him but… he’s better, deserves better than that… I’m not using him. An honestly I dunno if I’d even know how y’know? It’s not like I’m bursting with experience… barely even—y’know what, I’m not talking about this, big nope on the using Steve as a cheat code to achieving fame! Let’s just… get our shit together and get out there!”

Gareth smiled before rising to his feet, drumsticks in hand “you’re the boss, man. Where’s Jeff an Frank?”

“Bathroom touching up their shit… promise me you won’t bring it up to Steve, yeah? Like… if he does come, you won’t—”

“Dude, dude… I was just throwing out dumb ideas to get you out of your head, I’d never, that’d be really uncool of me” Eddie looked at him with doubt because… okay, maybe there was a little truth to the interest in the subject, Gareth had worked part time in the stationary section of Staples for three years now and he was just about ready to die if he had to deal with his supervisors summer BO any longer, but if Eddie put his foot down and said no, then it was no, the idea was vetoed. Axed. Deader than dead

He could deal with Ralph. Probably.

“…Right, well… oka—”

The door opened, a frizzy head of hair poking around the entry way, one of the bartenders, “You’re on in five guys! Wh—Where’s the rest of you??”

“Gareth go get em for me? I’ll get the crowd warmed up.”

“On it.”

T-5 minutes. Gareth rushed out the opposite door to the bathrooms behind 'stage', otherwise known as the staff bathroom. The bar was heaving, music from the speakers to fill the void of sound before the live music act, loud and thumping, it’d be them soon, filling that void, deep breath. Eddie fluffed his hair once more, spritzed it with hairspray one last time, checked his minimalist eyeliner, and shook himself out, and grabbed his baby.

Show time.

Part 11

[estrellami-1]

Okay my love I’m sending you a sad and pathetic prompt and then a cutesy fluff prompt (I thought about just sending you the cute one, I feel like all I’m doing these last few days is feeling awful and not being very productive or fun to be around and I think I was just wallowing when I wrote that comment so absolutely feel free disregard this one if you want) this is the sad one, I was thinking more hurt/comfort vibes:

This is just basically self insert except it’s not me I’m inserting it’s my situation lol, one of their relatives passes away (not Wayne) and on top of that they have to find homes for their loved ones pets that they loved the most of anything in the world when everyone is just telling them to euthanize or that everywhere is full and they’re four states and 16 hours away from the pets so it’s not like they can go pick them up easily if at all, which causes them to get sick/throw up a ton from the sadness and anxiety about the situation - enter the other who takes care of them to make sure they don’t worry themselves to death (if anyone wants to come take care of me and maybe just give me about 3000 hugs a day we could make this a live action roleplay situation lol🥺)

(Sorry this is just me complaining pretty much, the other prompt will be cuter)

Oh my love, you’re allowed to feel bad and wallow. I’m so sorry this happened/is happening!! I can’t give you any real hugs but I’ll give you ALL the virtual hugs I can ❤️

When the World Ends - Part 1

Steve’s voice is trembling when he finally makes the call to Eddie. “Hey,” he manages, letting out a pathetic, airy laugh at how badly his voice shakes on that one word. “Um. Can. Can you come over?”

Eddie’s amazing, so he says, “I’ll be there in ten,” and he is. As soon as Steve opens the door, he murmurs, “What’s wrong?”

Steve bites his lip, invites Eddie in. “Y’know how I never mention my parents?” Eddie hums. “But I always leave in the spring for a couple weeks?”

Eddie nods. “Your grandparents, right?”

Steve nods. Bites his lip again, looks up at the ceiling, trying not to cry. “Um.” He sniffs. “My grandpa passed today.”

“Oh, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, reaching for him until Steve shakes his head sharply. “What can I do?”

Steve huffs. “What can anyone do?” He wipes his face and begins to pace. “My grandma’s too old to stay on her own now, let alone with all the animals they’ve got, and of course it’s not like her own son would help, not when he could be in Cabo instead, finding new ways to cheat on my mom with his secretary or assistant or her secretary or who the fuck knows. And I want to help but I can’t leave Hawkins, not when everyone else is still here, and there’s still a chance, but it feels so selfish not to go when she needs me-”

“Steve,” Eddie interrupts softly, hands up between them. “Take a breath, man, it’ll be okay. I know you love your grandparents but this isn’t all on you, okay?”

Steve slumps back into the couch like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Says, barely above a whisper, “I’ve got animals out there.”

Eddie hums softly. “What did you say?”

“Animals. Pets. I can’t have them here so my grandparents have ‘em. I’ve got a dog and chickens and a horse and what ‘m I gonna do with them?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Eddie promises him.

Steve groans and stands up again, beginning to pace again. “They’re four states away, Eddie! I don’t have a horse trailer, I dunno anyone in Hawkins who has chickens so I dunno if that’s even allowed, and I can’t bring my dog here!” He runs a hand through his hair, grimacing. “I guess the horse could go back to the neighbor, but they gave her to me for a reason, and I dunno what’s gonna happen to the chickens, and imma have to give the dog away, too, and get my grandma somewhere she can be taken care of, and fuck, there’s still the house-” he chokes on an inhale and a sob, standing still for a moment before he dashes through the house.

Eddie watches, wide-eyed, and follows when the sound of retching reaches his ears. “Oh, Stevie,” he murmurs, dropping to his knees beside him, hand hovering over his back. “Can I touch you? Rub your back?” Between gasping breaths, Steve nods, so Eddie puts a gentle hand on his back, rubbing up and down. “You’re gonna be okay,” he murmurs. “I know how scary this all seems right now, but you’re the strongest person I know, ‘sides Wayne, and you’ve got people who care about you and who’re gonna be here for you very step of the way, okay?”

The puppeteer cuts the strings once again, and Steve sags sideways into Eddie, trying to regulate his breathing, still quietly choking on his sobs. “Want me to call Birdie?” Eddie asks quietly, moving his hand to wrap his arm around Steve’s shoulders.

Steve shakes his head. Says, between breaths, “She’d panic.”

Eddie hums. “And you wanna be okay for her when she panics.” Steve nods. “Okay, I get that. I’m glad you called me.”

Steve sniffles. Eddie hands him some toilet paper. Says, after he’s blown his nose, “Feels like the world’s ending.”

Eddie thrown back into a memory from months ago. “If the world ends again, you know where I am,” he’d said. He hadn’t been sure, at the time, if Steve would call him. But they stayed friends, to the point where Steve calling him wasn’t quite the rarity it used to be, and Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever felt so honored.

“And you called me,” he murmurs, back in the present day, knees sore from the bathroom tile. He knows they’re going to pop like an old man’s when he stands. He decides not to worry about that right now.

Steve nods. “Knew you’d come.”

“And I did,” Eddie nods. Rubs his hand up and down Steve’s arm. “How’re you feeling?”

Steve sniffs again. “Like shit.”

Eddie lets out a soft chuckle. “I probably should’ve guessed. Ready to get up? Or wanna stay here for a minute?”

“Wanna stay here forever,” he says, but shifts to get up.

He stumbles a little when he stands, hissing. Eddie steadies him. “Legs’re asleep.”

“That’s okay, Stevie, I’ve gotcha. Come rinse your mouth out, m’kay? We’re going back to bed. I’m gonna make a few calls, okay?”

Steve won’t look at him in the mirror. “Gonna leave?”

“Not unless you want me to,” Eddie swears. Steve meets his eyes for a brief second. Shakes his head. “Then I’ll stay until you get sick of me.”

Steve manages a shaky smile. “Not possible.”

Eddie sighs contentedly. “Rinse your mouth out,” he gently reminds him. “Let’s get you up to bed.”

When Steve’s in bed, Eddie turns to leave, then turns back just as quickly when Steve grabs his hand. “You’re not leaving?”

Eddie squeezes his hand. “Not leaving. Just gonna make a quick call.”

“Okay,” Steve whispers, but his breathing picks up again, and Eddie changes his mind.

He bullies his way under the covers next to Steve, pulling him in until his face is tucked into Eddie’s neck and Eddie can rub his back. The call can wait until Steve’s asleep, so he can get back before Steve wakes up.

Steve’s world is ending. That’s every bit as important as the world itself ending. So Eddie resigns himself to stand guard over Steve’s dreams, keeping them happy as best he can.

I hope y’all liked this! The fic tag is the name (“#whentheworldends”) and my writing tag is “#starambles”. Remember I’m NOT doing a taglist for these, so subscribe to either to see where this goes next! Send me an ask with the next thing you want to happen in this fic!

[the-lisechen]

~3k. copia/f!oc. rated gen. local catholic novitiate has dinner with satanic clergyman. it's not a date. (it isn't not a date.) 1/2

(thanks to @enjoy-my-swearing for the banner and the unending support!)

a little throwback for you, now available on tumblr!

say it slow and perfect, chapter 1/2 - ao3

This was a bad idea. 

Sophie had been given the gift of time, a rare occurrence in the lead up to her First Vows, and while Sister Gloria hadn't given her a set date to return to New York, stretching this trip out for another week might be pushing it. Seeing Appalachia-- home-- before she had to leave it to go on mission for an indefinite amount of time, well, that was a gift. That her family had conveniently timed a reunion in the months before her vows was an even greater one. They'd come to terms with her Catholicism, though it had taken some time. In that slew of vaguely defined but strongly believing Baptists, there wasn't a single one of them who would have known what an anchoress was, let alone the name Julian of Norwich. 

That was alright. They had never understood her, but they had always loved her, and that was more than enough. She was blessed, and she knew it, the force of her gratitude staggering if she let herself think about it for too long. 

Still, it was only her cousin she'd told about precisely which band she was going to see while she was in the neighborhood. 

"Hold up. Sophs, you gone go be a nun. Y'all allowed to listen to that? Ain't you gonna have to-- shit, I dunno, confess to your minister or something?"

"Priest, and no, you only have to confess to sins. Baller guitar riffs aren't sins, Lee. Sick tunes are non-denominational. Besides, I'm way more worried your mamma gone find out about it than Sister Gloria. Now pass the blunt. This here I will have to quit on."

That had been that. So she said, and so she believed. Lee had only known about them because he'd been a hardcore kid since they'd learned how to ride bicycles. If anything, he thought it was music for posers. It had been a blip, a nothing, an opportunity to see a damn good live show. A detour. Asheville wasn't so far out of her way, why not go to a concert while she could? So what if maybe she did feel a little weird about seeing a band like that after, it was very far down on her list of priorities in the run up to her vows. 

Six months kicking the tires on the whole idea, circling it like a lost dog creeping towards a campfire, coming to terms with the thought that something that felt so impossibly right could be hers. How she had wept when at last she'd told Sister Gloria that she wanted to begin discernment, when the woman had answered-- "Oh Sophie. You already have." A year in the congregation, and another two and a half in formation. It had been hard going, that first year, adapting to communal life. The structure of it, the routine, that had been a relief so strong it was almost like grieving, but the patience it required did not come naturally to her. And she was always, on some level, going to be angry. That was alright. Anger at the world's injustice was a great gift, she'd been told. And if she could use it in service for the poor, the marginalized, the persecuted-- the least of these-- then she wouldn't turn it away. She was going to need it, on mission. She'd need every tool she could get. 

Put against all of that, a rock show was small potatoes. But following them, putting another five hour drive between her and New York, accepting the personal invitation of a man- no matter how charming and polite- literally sworn to Satan-- that might be unwise. 

Yet here she was, boots thudding against the cobblestones, ducking under the low hanging branch of a live oak sprawling over a brick wall. And it was beautiful, wrought iron balconies, riots of flowers, that stately and sinister antebellum architecture everywhere you looked. Palm trees and salt air. There had been pirates here, once, and in this thick golden light heavy with the scent of jasmine, you could almost believe it. 

She could just dick around Charleston for a little while. Certainly there was enough to occupy her attention. What was she even going to say? It wasn't as if she'd gotten the man's number. No, this was a stupid plan. This wasn't even a plan. 

Fine. If it wasn't a plan, it wouldn't matter if it didn't work. She would give it a shot, see what happened, and when nothing did, she'd sleep in the car and start back for the convent tomorrow. With this comforting thought in her head, she rounded the corner towards the venue, and stepped out into the courtyard of a beautiful neoclassical building, ready for anything. 

It looked like a goth convention holding a picnic. She was instantly charmed. They must have lined up for hours, the lot of them spilled onto the grass, under umbrellas and sharing food and chattering away, lively as blackbirds, and as beautiful. 

They seemed impossibly young to her, a specter of her own teenage years. Even now her wardrobe tended towards the monochromatic, but this exuberance, these ostentatious displays, the defiant declaration of non-conformity-- it was like looking at your high school yearbook. She could have been one of them. Had been one of them. Still was one of them, wasn't she? That didn't go away, not with all the years and all the changes. It was a comforting thought. 

Hard not to feel like something of an anachronism, picking her way through the crowd in her skinny jeans and her faded Huggy Bear t-shirt. Maybe she should have worn black, just to blend in. It wasn't as if she had that much variation in her wardrobe. Too late now. She was what she was. Project confidence. She'd been invited, sent for, even. 

Shoulders back, head up, she found a man with biceps bigger than her head and an earpiece on near the door.  "Sir? Excuse me. The Cardinal asked for me?" She could feel the flesh beside her spine tensing. "Sophia Turner."

The man considered her, dubious. She folded her hands in front of her and smiled her best Nice White Lady smile while he murmured into his headset. He looked up at her with a sharp glance. 

"The Dominican."

Ah. There it was. "That's me." She settled her weight a little more evenly on the balls of her feet. Amiable on top; iron underneath. "The order, not the nationality," she said, her smile bland as it could be. 

"Guess so. Yeah, go on in." Still eyeing her with some suspicion, he opened the door for her.��

"Thank you kindly, sir," she said, in her best redneck drawl, smile bright, as she ducked into the darkened lobby. The air conditioning was a shock after the thick warmth of the outside air, her footsteps echoing on the mosaic tile. It had been a grand old movie theatre, once, stylized murals on the wall depicting some sort of mediterranean seascape, vaguely Egyptian capitals on the columns, gilded molding everywhere. She wandered forward, head craned up to take in what looked to be a pretty decent restoration job, when a voice out of the darkness made her jump. 

"Sister Turner?"

Her choked-off yelp echoed in the cavernous space, and the strangeness of the figure addressing her wasn't exactly conducive to slowing her heart rate. "Excuse me! Ah. Not a sister, not quite yet." Why on earth had one of the backup musicians come to collect her? And already in costume! Strange. "But yes, that's me."

His teeth were very white in the dark. "Very well. If you'll come this way, ma'am?" The man's voice carried strangely in the lobby, but she stepped through the door he held open for her gamely enough. He was very tall, and seemed solid all the way through. An odd smell near him, cool and mineral, like damp stone. She thought of rivers deep in caves, places she'd gone to as a child. Chthonic. A shiver ran through her, and the air conditioning seemed very intense indeed. 

She kept pace with him, a step behind, through the barely-organized chaos of serious people with serious jobs securing last minute adjustments ahead of a major performance. Her head was on a swivel, taking in this completely foreign world. No panic, here, but a crushing sense of urgency, scurrying around with the feverish intensity of a kicked-over ant colony.  She trotted along in the big man's wake, following that strange mineral smell. After several twists, turns, and two stairwells, he deposited her in the wings, stage right. 

She looked up into his insectile goggles as he paused, staring down at her. It was more than a little unsettling. Finally, he spoke. "The Cardinal regrets that he will not have time to meet with you until after the ritual, but you are welcome to watch from here. He said that you may find it edifying." Something in the acoustics gave his words a strange whipsaw buzz, and if she were a less rational person, she might have found it eerie. 

As it was, she could only blink up at him. "Ah. Th--thank you, Mister--?"

He only tilted his head at her, and she got the impression of something that might have been a smile. Then he pressed a water bottle into her hands-- it was startlingly cold-- and receded into the shadows. 

She twisted the cap compulsively, off and back on, off and back on, and settled back to watch. 

And from this perspective, it was difficult to call it anything other than it was-- a ritual was right. Spectacle, yes, and even if it was so far beyond her experience she had to admire the skill of it, projecting to the back seats but playing to his people, the ones right out front that had sat for hours, the painted faces and total exuberance. They loved him, loved them, and he served it right back. He gave them a lewdness that was so exaggerated as to loop right back around to innocent. Fun all the way down to the rumble behind the sternum, and shot through with joy, joy, joy. She was far enough away to observe, knowing full well what it was to be back in that crowd. Maybe not right in front, but that amorphous and livewire energy surged through the whole place, right up to the rafters. Close enough to feel it, and somewhere in there she realized her cheeks were wet with an unconscious enthrallment, the kind of awe she felt for thunderstorms slamming the mountains, for the high arch and hush of medieval cathedrals. 

Hard to deny, joy. 

When it was over, he sauntered back into the wings with the air of a man wrung out and satisfied, as if he had completed a some particularly difficult piece of manual labor, something that required both stamina and craftsmanship. Building a barn, perhaps. Or fucking someone's brains out, her traitor mind supplied. She pushed the thought away as he looked down at a cheap bouquet of roses someone had tossed onstage at the last minute. Carefully, he picked out the note attached with a rubber band and hope, unfolded it, and paused to read. He rocked back on his heels, drawing in a sharp breath. After a moment, he nodded, folded it back up, and tapped it against his other hand while he stared off into the middle distance. He slid it back under the rubber band, and passed the bouquet off to a stage tech. "Please, don't let me lose that one, eh? Thank you."

That bit of business accomplished, he scanned the backstage, and saw her. His face lit up, a flare gun going off at the side of the road in the dark. He pushed it back down, and trotted up to her like a golden retriever. 

"Miss Turner," very formal, even as she saw the sweat on him and practically felt the afterglow coming off of a performance. Off of that performance. he nodded at one of his backup musicians-- ghouls, really? strange-- and made a little gesture at him, an impatient 'give me a minute' sort of motion, before turning back to her. Being under the full force of his regard, even for a moment, was disorienting. "I did not expect the pleasure of your company again." He clasped his hands together and beamed at her, and she couldn't even think of what to say. How could she? She'd seen him on that stage just last night, albeit from far away. It shouldn't have been a surprise. But it was difficult, now, to connect the uninhibited strutting and sheer spectacle of his performance to the man she had walked with the night before. Yet here he was, smiling at her as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. "I am very glad that you came."

"Well. I-- you are, still, real good at your job."

"That is very-- oh, all right. Yes. I will be right there. My apologies, Miss Turner, if you would-- I'll be with you shortly, some things to wrap up--" He made to put his hand on her back, to guide her, and stopped short of actually touching her. "Kevin, would you see the lady to the green room?"

"Of course, don't worry about it, you're busy, do your thing, sorry to interrupt, really--" Sheer drivel coming out of her mouth, now, and she couldn't seem to stop it. 

He moved off with one of the ghouls, looking back over his shoulder at her with a nod and a lopsided smile, before turning his full attention to his band mate. And it was his full attention. She watched his focus shift, arms folded, completely present as the ghoul articulated whatever concern he had, she was too far away to quite hear, and the pitch of his voice was-- strange. Those masks. It had to be. Copia put a hand on the ghoul's shoulder, and she could just make out his voice: "--has merit, yes. I will consider it, consider, I am not saying yes now. I will have an answer for you by the next show. Now--" Odd, that she could hear the cardinal but not his musician. Mollified, the ghoul nodded at him and moved off, and Copia turned to the next concern, and--

"Ma'am? If you'll come with me."

"Oh! Yes, of course."

After the man led her through a few more dark corridors, she was ushered in to a well-lit room of whitewashed cinderblocks, with a couple of battered couches and a table full of water bottles, sodas, snacks, a kuerig. She didn't know why she expected a green room to be green-- probably a stupid thought. A little dazed, still, reeling from being that close to that energy, a force almost impersonal in its impact. 

Too nervous to sit, she put her back against a wall in an out of the way corner. She smiled politely at the bustle of stage hands, technicians, and a few of the, well, ghouls wandering in and out. One of them grinned widely at her, his teeth startlingly white. Odd, you would think that after the jungle-thick heat of the stage, they would want to take off their masks. Best not to think of it. 

She grabbed a bottle of water, twisting the cap almost compulsively, just for something to do with her hands. Wished desperately for a cigarette. Conversations drifted over her and she didn't hear a word of them. 

"--yes, it was well done. I do appreciate it." Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice, and she saw the moment he saw her, a flash of delight and disbelief there and gone again. The man was never going to be inconspicuous, she thought, but she supposed he might pass for casual, if not for the eye makeup. A particularly goth college professor, perhaps, in that well-cut blazer with a red pocket square. Every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man, she thought, and grinned. 

He smiled back, slow and a trifle lopsided. "We'll speak tomorrow," he said to his companion, not taking his eyes from her. "If you'll excuse me-- Miss Turner." He shoved his hands in his pockets as he approached, an oddly adolescent gesture. "Thank you for joining me."

"Thank you for having me." She felt a little underdressed, all of a sudden. "Interesting perspective to have on a performance like that."

"Providing you with a different perspective will always be a delight, I think. Tell me, have you eaten?"

"I could eat."

"I've been assured of a place a little ways away. If you would--?"

"Be happy to." She fell into step in his wake, through the maze of the backstage, all harsh fluorescent light and aggressive air-conditioning. "I liked your tricycle."

"Ehh, it is a good touch, I think. It does not do to take oneself too seriously."

"Of course." She looked at him sidelong, his hair slicked back and still damp, a faint air of leather and vanilla-- he'd put on cologne for her. Was taking her to dinner. Miraculously, she managed not to blurt out the thought-- is this a date? but it blindsided her nonetheless.

Preposterous. Ridiculous thought. 

He held the door for her and she stepped out into the low-country velvet heat. A relief, after all that air conditioning. Sodium streetlights down the alleyway, that orange light falling through an oak tree dripping with spanish moss. "This here feels like it's getting to be a habit."

"There are worse habits to have, I think. Or perhaps I flatter myself. Here I am, everything you stand against."

"Oh honey, you are so far down the priority list I can't even see you from here. Besides, it could be worse. You could be a Republican."

She wanted to take the delighted noise he made at that and keep it safe forever, something she could take out and cup her hands around for warmth on cold winter nights. Total hotshot pride. 

They stepped to the corner together and like some great mythological beast an actual yellow cab cruised down the street in their direction. He looked at her. She looked at him. Having reached an agreement just that fast, he flagged it down, something spooky about the timing as it pulled up, some sense of barely perceptible synchronicities lining up in a vast machine.  He opened the door for her, almost without thought, a courtliness she recognized as bone-deep. 

With perfect trust, Sophie got in the taxi.

[gtraccoon]

honestly feeling angsty at work so

a g/t trope: /unwanted/, but not really (and the names im using are just some of my favorite ocs :))

Vivina sat with her legs crossed, head leaned up against Otto’s neck. She loved them, and they loved her—she knew that for a fact—but there is a problem. There’s always a problem with her.

Otto is a human. Vivina was a borrower. She says was, because she doesn’t really borrow anymore—and that eats her alive. There’s nothing in the world she hated more than being useless, not being able to give back—yet Otto feeds her, helps her get around, houses her, all for free. For nothing.

It’s fair—at 4 inches tall, there’s not much you can do to help your human, and yet here she is, praying and hoping and wishing, doing everything she can.

Otto was ranting on about something, probably the Military again. They’d wanted to join since they were young, but they couldn’t: they never told Vivina why, either. It’s not like it mattered, that’s what they said.

“Otto?” Vivina asked suddenly, interrupting them in the middle of a rant about the Navy. “Oh, sorry—“

“No worries. What’s up?” They talk so softly, clicking onto a new tab on their computer.

“Er, so, uh, you want to join the Navy, right?”

«Да.» (yes)

“Why don’t you?” She sat up a little straighter, and they just hummed.

Otto paused, tilting their own head slightly. “Oh, I dunno. I wouldn’t want to leave you here by yourself,” they replied, clicking a few words into the search bar. Some Russian stuff.

“…Otto, am I holding you back?” They stopped again, pulling their hand back from the computer and lifting Vivina off of their shoulder, holding her in cupped hands infront of them.

“Vi, you know you don’t. It’s just a personal decision. I’d rather be here with you.”

“Are you sure? God, I just…” She trailed off, and they waited. Fuck. They always waited, patient, gentle, careful. “I just don’t want to be a liability.”

They furrowed their brows, avoiding eye contact for a moment. “You are far from a liability.”

“But I don’t help you. I’m not even noticeable.”

They frowned. “Vi…”

“I can’t do anything. I just… I don’t know, I sit here, and I watch what you do. Why do you even love me?” She felt her head ache, forcing back tears. “You could be so much more. You could do so much more; you’ll always be more than me.”

“Physically, yes,” they muttered, hoping for their partner to stop degrading herself. “And you are small. But that’s fine—you are my whole world, and that makes you way more important than just your body. I cannot express to you enough how perfect you are, everything about you.” They smiled weakly. “You do help me. You just don’t know it.”

“I love you, but how do I help you. At all?” She took light notice of their partner’s Russian accent, which was slipping through a bit. It tended to happen when they spoke quickly.

“When you came to me I was nothing, you know. I didn’t have family to go back to. I couldn’t enlist because I wasn’t old enough; I couldn’t go back to school because I didn’t have any money. I didn’t think I deserved a chance—“ They paused, momentarily, before tightening their hold ever so slightly on their girlfriend. “—but here you are.”

She couldn’t help but smile. She hated being proven wrong, but yet when it came from Otto it just… it was okay.

“Thanks.”

“If anything, I should be thanking you—you stay with me through everything.” Before she could reply, they continued, pressing their thumb softly against Vi’s side. “You are everything.”

—

there r prolly some fucking spelling mistakes but i’m a lonely queer guy like i just need to write some romance ok 😞

[iwritewhump]

"We have to go back and save them! They'd do the same for us!" + taken hostage + dragmarks

day twenty-two of whumptember

1763 words

warnings: cursing, vague discussions of growing up with an abusive guardian, being taken hostage, implied drugging

~

Villain knocks on Hero’s door, a small smile on his face and bags in his hands. Hero opens the door and pulls him inside. She slams the door after him and holds his shoulders. “You weren’t followed?” 

He shakes his head and ducks out from under her. “I wasn’t. Promise.” 

She sighs and nods, “Of course you weren’t. I just…I worry about Supervillain.” 

“Me too,” Villain says, shifting his weight. He clears his throat and swings his bags at his side, “Is there somewhere you want me to put these?” 

“Oh!” Hero says, covering her face with her hands. “Of course! I completely forgot to clear out the guest room so you can set them in there as long as you don’t judge me for the mess. Sidekick is in there too but he’s not staying the night, that’s just where he keeps his stuff.” 

Nodding, Villain smiles and leans to look down the hallway, “Is it the one at the end or…”

“Right! Sorry, it’s a bit of a circus here right now. Superhero’s been working on this big huge thing and he’s making my life a living hell because he comes up with the “big idea” and I have to figure out how it actually works out.” she runs a hand through her hair and sputters, “It’s the second door on the right.” 

Villain forces a smile and walks down the hallway to the second door on the right. 

Light shines through the cracks of the closed door so Villain knocks. He turns the handle and pushes the door open just enough to peek inside. 

“Sidekick?” He asks, reaching his hand through the crack. “Hero told me I could put my stuff in here, can I come in?” 

The door opens the rest of the way and Sidekick smiles widely, “Sure thing! Just put it somewhere over there, I try to keep my stuff on this half of the room so just stay out of it, yeah?” 

He looks at Villain and raises his eyebrows, expecting a response. Villain nods and walks over to his side of the room before setting his bags down. He falls back on the bed and stares at the ceiling and exhales deeply. 

Sidekick lays down next to him and sighs, “Whatcha thinkin’ about?” 

“Oh, you know. I abandoned the person who raised me for the people she despises most in the entire world.” he taps his thumb on his chest and frowns, “I guess I wish I left a note or something. Just to tell her why I left.” 

Sidekick nods and turns his head to look at Sidekick. He bites his cheek and opens his mouth to say something, then closes it. He takes a deep breath and knits his brows together, “Why did you leave?” 

“I dunno, I guess…” Villain looks up and shrugs. “I guess I finally realized that she didn’t actually take care of me. And that the majority of my childhood was abusive and she’s been using me my entire life. But that’s just…” he shrugs again and looks at Sidekick. “Can that stay between us actually? I don’t really want Hero to know about that.” 

Sidekick nods and hesitantly takes Villain’s hand in his, ignoring the crushing weight in his head telling him not to. Villain lets him take his hand, so he squeezes it tightly and pulls it onto his chest over his heart. 

They lay there for a few minutes, hand in hand over heart, until Hero knocks on the door and walks in. They both shoot up from the bed and Sidekick scurries to his desk. Hero tilts her head and shoots Villain a knowing smile before speaking. “Superhero will be over in a few minutes. Did Sidekick tell you the plan?” 

Shaking his head, Villain unzips one of his bags and takes out a granola bar, “No, we were-” 

He cuts himself off by taking a bite and shakes his head again. “No, he didn’t tell me the plan.”

Hero nods and leans against the desk, “Maybe he can do that then?” 

“Sure thing!” Sidekick says, fiddling with something from his desk. “We’ll come out when Superhero gets here.” 

Hero smiles forcefully and turns around. She stops in the doorway and smiles cheekily, “Let’s keep this open from now on, yeah?” 

Villain’s face goes red and he turns away from her. He finishes his granola bar and slides down the wall with his hands over his face. 

“Oh. My. God.” Sidekick says, chuckling. “What the fuck just happened?” 

Villain falls into a fit of laughter and waves Sidekick over to him. “I think it’s something we can ignore until after we get this plan over with?” 

Sidekick nods. “But maybe we can still…” he trails off but holds his hand out on his leg, an open invitation for Villain to take. Smiling, Villain wraps his fingers with Sidekick’s and pulls his hand into his lap. “So the plan is for you to distract Supervillain while Superhero and Hero sneak up on her from the back. I’ll be with them but really just in case they need a third pair of hands. Which I hope they don’t because I’d love to do this again.” 

He smiles and squeezes Villain’s hand. Villain smiles back and stands up. He walks to the door, still holding Sidekick’s hand and finds his way back to the entryway. 

Superhero is already there, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He pushes off the wall and walks up to Villain. His eyes narrow and his nose almost touches Villain’s forehead. 

“You’re not working for her, are you?” he whispers. 

A shiver runs down Villain’s spine and all he can bring himself to do for a response is to shake his head. Superhero takes a moment, his breath hot on Villain’s face, before pulling away. He nods and claps Villain on the shoulder. 

“It’s nice to have you on the team!” 

Hero makes herself known and clears her throat, “Now that we’re all here I think it’s time we get going. Villain, you can get us to her house?” 

Villain blinks a few times, unaware of that being one of his tasks. “Uh, yeah. I can do that.��� 

“Good. Because that’s the only way we’re taking her down.” She walks past him and bumps his shoulder. Pausing right after, she whispers, “Don’t fuck it up.” 

She opens the door and ushers everyone out the door, “Let’s go! We’ve got a Supervillain to defeat!” 

~

“Ok, this is the spot,” Villain says, unbuckling his seatbelt. He pushes up from his seat and puts his hand on the handle as Hero parks. Sidekick reaches over and puts his hand on Villain’s arm, trying to be comforting. Villain tilts his head so his chin rests on Sidekick’s hand. He almost smiles and gets out of the car. 

Just before he slams the car door, he says, “I’ll leave the door open. Give me a minute then you can come in.” 

On the walk up to the door, Villain’s heart starts to race. His hands get sweaty and his breathing speeds up. He shakes his shoulders and exhales sharply, pushing the anxiety down. 

“Supervillain!” He shouts, opening the door. “I’m home!” 

He can hear her running up the basement stairs. She skids into the entryway and throws her arms around Villain. She puts her chin in the crook of his neck and inhales deeply, “I was so worried about you! You left your phone here so I couldn’t track you and you didn’t leave a note saying when you’d be back!” 

She pulls back from him and holds his shoulders. She shakes him harshly and smacks him, “What were you thinking just leaving like that? You know the rules!” 

He swallows thickly and looks at the ground. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” 

“That much is clear.” She scoffs. 

Villain turns her around so her back faces the door right as Hero pushes it open. 

The door creaks and Hero freezes, eyes wide. She pulls back and presses against the outside wall, praying Villain can cover it. 

“What was that?” Superhero hisses from the other side of the doorframe. 

Hero presses a finger to her mouth and shakes her head. She mimes opening the door and opens her mouth just enough to make a faint creaking noise. Superhero nods and takes a step away from the door just as it opens. 

Supervillain peers around the corner of the doorframe and gasps, “Villain the wind brought us some visitors and a squeaky door!” 

She snaps her fingers and Henchman walks onto the porch, Sidekick’s limp body held close against her. Villain’s face turns pale and his heart drops. 

“You knew?” he breathes. 

Supervillain rolls her eyes and shoves him out of the house. “Of course I fucking knew. Your betrayal was very obvious.” 

Sidekick’s head moves and he moans weakly. Henchman’s grip on him tightens and he whimpers. “Well, that’s our cue.” Supervillain says. She waves Henchman into the house and slams the door. The deadbolt turns and Villain throws himself against the house. 

Hero and Superhero watch as he bangs against the door, shaking the wreath on the front of it.  They share a look and each grab one of his arms. They start to pull him back and Villain screams. 

He wails, “We have to save him! She’ll kill him! She’ll ruin him and she’ll hurt him and she’ll kill him! We have to save him from her!” 

Hero wraps her other arm around him and squeezes him tightly, “We will. But right now we need to go and come up with a good plan that’ll actually work. This was half baked at best and Supervillain knew it.” 

Villain shakes his head and kicks his feet, trying to land one on either one of them. Superhero wraps a huge hand around Villain’s arm and lifts him into the air. 

“It’s time to go,” He spits. 

Villain shuts down, he stops fighting and lets the pair drag him back to the car. Hero opens the door for him and he gets put in the backseat as she starts the car. 

Superhero leans over him and clicks the seatbelt. He lingers and sighs. “I didn’t want to leave him either. But he’s tough, he’ll be fine.” 

Villain doesn’t have it in him to scoff. He closes his eyes and draws his legs up to his chest. “It doesn’t matter how tough he is. She’ll beat it out of him. Whatever we end up doing…it better be fast.”

[jeannefostergoriot]

Family Line by Conan Gray X Fitz Vacker

(How didn’t I think of it sooner?)

« My father never talked a lot »: Alden… isn’t really open. Like. I doubt any of his kids, and even Della, ever knew what was happening, what he was doing, even when they were on missions.

« He just took a walk around the block »: keuf. That’s the secret missions. For the Council and for himself. That a kid can’t understand.

« Till all his anger took a hold of him, and he’d hit »: so. As I said for Driver’s Seat analysis, I doubt the cracks and the emotions go out as anger in the Lost Cities. Though it could happen, adding to the guilt that broke his mind. Yeah. Alden probably screamed. Criticized harshly without realizing. That’s the blows.

« My mother never cried a lot »: Della always stayed in the shadows. She says it herself, she isn’t known as standing up.

« She took the punches but she never fought »: that is about how Della never corrected Alden’s favoritism. She just compensated by caring more for Alvar and Biana.

« Till she said “I’m leaving and I’ll take the kids”, so she did »: that’s book 4. That’s Della joining the Black Swan.

« I say “They’re just the ones who gave me life” »: Fitz all throughout Flashback. Standing against his parents. Protesting.

« But I truly am my parents’ child »: but he can never undo the pressure, the legacy. Even his name, Fitz, that means « son of ». He’s what the Vackers made him.

« Scattered cross my family line »: the way the Vacker family is exploded. The ancestors. Alvar by the Neverseen. Alden and Della never truly close to their kids. Biana and Fitz raised in competition.

« I’m so good at telling lies »: he’s good at dissimulation, at tricking the world to appear fine.

« That came from my mother’s side »: dunno if Della lies. Probably yes. And she always gives the impression to be pretty delicate beauty, when she’s clearly a fighter (cf her registry pages in Unlocked)

« Told a million to survive »: not to survive but to keep the appearances up. Everything’s fine. There is no reason to worry.

« God, I have my father’s eyes »: Fitz has always been perceived as perfect heir. Miniature Alden.

« But my sister’s when I cry »: the fact that, with everything collapsing, Fitz and Biana grew closer throughout the series.

« I can run, but I can’t hide, from my family line »: that is the feeling that whatever he does, he will always be a Vacker. Seen as royal perfection.

« It’s hard to put it into words, how the holidays will always hurt »: it’s hard to admit in Glitter City that it’s not really perfect, expressing that is something they’ve never been taught.

« I watch the fathers with their little girls, and wonder what I did to deserve this »: I think I remember Fitz voicing that. Voicing that he doesn’t know why he is there, treated with so much respect and admiration and feeling so out of place.

« How could you hurt a little kid »: how could you turn me into a simple puppet and forget I have an identity ?

« I can’t forget, I can’t forgive you »: that’s to the whole family tree. The old ones that passed down the pressure and perfection-expectations for centuries.

« Cause now I’m scared that everyone I love will leave me ». This line is about how Fitz doesn’t know how to love. How to be stable. How to live.

« All that I did, I tried to undo it »: that he tried. Being perfect representation of the system? He joined the rebellion. Hurting Sophie and mistrusting her? He went through the whole process of Inquisition and accepted Sokeefe. Making Biana feel invisible? He talked with her in Flashback.

« All of my pain and all your excuses, I was a kid but I wasn’t clueless »: how living in both worlds made him stranger to everything, how he felt something was wrong with the missions, how he just wanted to make Alden proud.

« Someone who loves you wouldn’t do this »: to the system. To all the girls flirting with him without knowing. To his parents not understanding his fears.

« All of my past, I tried to erase it »: killing Alvar as erasing the pain. Joining the Black Swan as erasing the pressure. He is a runaway boy too, but it shows less.

« But now I see, would I even change it? »: I think he can learn to think like this. To be satisfied.

« Might share a face and share a last name, but we are not the same »: now. By Stellarlune, he knows. He knows he can have an identity and not be a copy of his father. He can not make the same mistakes.

[ecosystem-administrator]

Third-rate

Timeline: Post-6.0, no MSQ spoilers

Y'shtola approaches Mayhem with a discovery about the nature of their Echo ability.

After they’d shooed away their unpleasant conversational partner, Mayhem turned to find Y’shtola approaching them, an oddly intent look on her face.

“Something wrong?” they asked as she got close. “You look like you’re trying to figure out where a weird smell is coming from.”

“…Not entirely inaccurate,” she admitted dryly. “Tell me, why did you send that man away?”

“Him?” Mayhem looked to where the scholar had turned to huff his way back to the Studium, intentions thwarted. “He said he wanted to learn about my thesis, but I could tell he was just looking for something to undermine my reputation with.”

“How did you know?” Y’shtola’s tone of voice was still odd, and her ears had also taken an incisive turn.

They shrugged, a little confused. “I could tell he was off as soon as he walked up, so I danced around until he let a little too much slip. Are you worried I’ll fall prey to the machinations of academia?”

“No.” Y’shtola tilted her head, considering. “Interesting. You could tell that something was wrong, but not what. Likewise, you can’t divine the full intent of my line of questioning unless you ask me, or cajole me into telling you some other way.”

“What’s this about, Shtola?” She often took her time getting to the point while she tested a theory, but they were getting a little tired of being part of this particular experiment.

“I apologize.” She smiled at them conciliatingly. “I had a purpose in testing you, I promise. …You’re aware that many of those who have the Echo gain…particularly specific manifestations of it. Sensitivity to others’ emotions, visions of the future as well as the past, the ability to handle objects and learn about their previous holders…the known manifestations are numerous.” At Mayhem’s nod, she continued, “I’ve always found it a little strange that, despite your extensive experience with it, you never seem to have developed a particular specialty.”

“…But now you think you’ve uncovered mine,” Mayhem realized. “Something to do with how I knew that fellow was bad news?”

“Exactly.” Y’shtola tapped the corner of her eye with a fingertip. “Over time and with more practice using it, my aethersight has been growing ever more sensitive. In addition to corporeal aether, I’ve begun to be able to identify the…ripples in ambient aether that people leave in the world. Like an aura around their body. I realized a little while ago that I could tell when Krile’s was being impacted by someone else’s emotions. …And just now, I watched the pattern of your aura change in response to that man’s presence, as well, before he so much as spoke a word to you.”

“Huh.” Mayhem blinked at her. “For a while now I’ve been able to tell almost on sight whether someone was being sincere or not. I just thought I was good at reading people. So that’s been the Echo, all along, has it?” They turned the thought over in their mind for a moment. “…Seems a little bit cheap, for a special power. Any chance I could trade it in for, I dunno, dreams of other worlds or something?”

She just gave them another playful smile. “These abilities are known to advance or expand in capability over time, but rarely change their base nature. Still, I thought you ought to be informed. At the very least, you can rest assured that your ability to sense someone’s sincerity is reasonably accurate, if vague on specifics.”

[ask-the-royal-absol]

The decision was made. Singularity couldn’t have these two not remember some aspects of their time at the gala. Using his powers, he sealed their memories away, rather than removing them. Only if another Pokémon were to describe events from the gala would these two remember. It felt better than having their memories destroyed. Would he get in trouble with his father? Probably. With that, he sent them back into their own timeline, Epoch allowing the timeline to resume from where it last left off.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

Hope: Are you sure? You almost had me worried for a second. It was like you’d gone into your own little world.

Destino: There’s really no need. You see, I’d gone off into a land where the only thing I could see was me. It was beautiful, really. A land full of myself. I would take you there one day but I don’t think a place as gorgeous as that exists unfortunately. You’ll just have to be stuck with the one and only me.

*The smug face returned to its usual spot and Hope couldn’t help but look at the absol with an expression of frustrated disbelief. Felix seemed a bit unsure of himself however.*

Hope: Are you ok?

Felix: Yeah, I’m fine. I really dunno what happened. What were we doin’ again?

Hope: We were just about to head to the surface world. I would have walked on ahead if I hadn’t seen you two frozen in a dazed state for a few seconds.

Felix: Oh yeah, of course. Sorry about that. Again, I have no idea what went on there.

Hope: Hey, it’s alright. We should probably start making our way up soon. However, I still need to find-

*Hope was cut off by a voice calling her. It was Hershel running towards the group, holding what appeared to be a black belt in his hands. Hope’s feathers puffed up with excitement.*

Hershel: I believe the king took this from you. Roy was able to find it in their room and we figured you would not want to leave without such an item.

Hope: Yes! That’s certainly left me feeling relieved. I’m glad it hasn’t been damaged in any way. Could you help me put it on. It just needs to slip around my waist.

*As Hershel assisted Hope in putting the belt on, Destino looked at it curiously.*

Destino: So, what’s the deal with this? Seems like a useless piece of fabric. It’s not even in a colour that would suit you. Then again, with a face like that, perhaps I’d use it to cover it up.

*Hope rolled her eyes at the comment.*

Hope: It’s called an expert belt. It’s a useful item for combat. Makes sense that you wouldn’t know about it, considering the lack of combat experience you seem to have.

*Felix couldn’t help but snort. With the belt tied to her waist, she moved her hips to make some slight adjustments before feeling satisfied with how it looked on her.*

Destino: Now Hope, I would be more than happy to show you how skilled I am at combat. You’ve got to understand that this horn is not just used to frame my face. It can be quite deadly. I wouldn’t be surprised if I destroyed you in ten seconds flat. You seem weak enough.

Hope: Ha, alright then. When we get up there, we’ll take a quick stop at the training grounds I use before sending you to the guardian. I’d love to see you try and best me at combat.

Destino: Very well. Get ready to be amazed when you’re lying on the ground beneath me. Let’s be off then.

*Destino, Felix and Hope head into the king and queen’s room, ready to head up to the surface.*

[alienguts]

Spectacular (Ash Williams x f!Reader)

Summary: Y/N needs glasses and wants Ash to help her pick some out.

Warnings: fluff, friendly teasing

Request?: No

A/N: This one goes out to my glasses wearing babes out there. I am not one which is a shame because I look good in glasses. Also, I know that it takes much longer for prescription lenses to come in but this is a magical fictional opticians where they have things instantly.

Ash had spent fifteen minutes twiddling his thumbs in the optometrist waiting room, watching the rerun game show on the world’s smallest television set. He’d told Y/N multiple times that she didn’t need him to accompany her to her eye test, but she’d insisted so much that he eventually caved. He didn’t know anything about eyes except what it felt like to stand on one, and that was something he wished he didn’t know.

Eventually, Y/N came out of the exam room, the eye doctor in tow and a piece of paper in her hand. He looked up as he heard them come in and saw how her lips were pursed into a hard line.

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking between Y/N and the doctor.

“I need glasses,” she said. 

Is that it? Ash thought as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, ignoring the doctor.

“Hey, it’s not the end of the world, honey,” he soothed. “I bet you’ll look cute in glasses.”

“I’m not worried about that, Ash,” Y/N said as she shrugged his arm off of her. “It’s how much they’re gonna cost. I don’t exactly have all the money in the world.”

“Oh. Well, we’ll figure something out.”

The doctor cleared his throat briefly, drawing their attention back to him.

“If you’ll both follow me, we’ll try some frames out.”

Ash had expected to spend another fifteen minutes twiddling his thumbs while Y/N tried on glasses, but it turned out that he was quite keen to help her find a good frame.

“What about these?” he asked as he held up a thin framed pair with perfectly round lenses. Y/N immediately scrunched her nose at them.

“Nah, I’d look like John Lennon in those,” she said but still took them from him. She placed the glasses on her face and took one look in the mirror before turning back to Ash. 

“See?” she said. “They’re too Lennon for me.”

“I dunno, I think you look cute in them,” Ash said. 

Y/N immediately turned back to the wall of frames, embarrassed by him complimenting her in a public place. She picked up a pair with square lenses and settled them on her face before turning back to Ash.

“How about these?” 

“Now those are cute,” he said as he took her face in his hands and angled her chin around, as if he was trying to get a good look at her from all angles.

“I like these too,” Y/N said as she tried to suppress a laugh. 

“You look like a cute librarian,” Ash said and let go of her face before kissing her gently. He felt how her face immediately heated up against his and smiled against her lips before drawing away again.

“Okay,” Y/N said, trying to not look so flustered. “These are a definite yes, I just need a spare pair.”

“You mean we gotta keep looking?” Ash whined. “Can’t you just get two of the same?”

“I could, but I want a different pair too,” she said and turned back to the wall to look at the frames again.

Ash let his eyes wander over the display and immediately pulled a random pair off the wall.

“How about these?” he asked and placed them onto his own face.

“Ugh, no,” Y/N bristled. “I’d look like a serial killer in those.”

“I guess they are a little creepy when they’re not sunglasses,” Ash said and put the frames back. “Hey, I’m gonna leave you to it, I gotta use the bathroom.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N said. “I’ll probably be here a while so don’t rush yourself.”

Ash took his time, as Y/N had said to, coming back to the store just as she was paying. Her back was to him as she took a bag from the assistant, presumably with her new glasses inside. He took quiet steps as he crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She jumped slightly when she noticed him but rested a hand on her wrist as she finished her conversation and thanked the assistant.

“Ready to go?” he asked as she turned round to face him.

He was surprised to see Y/N already wearing her new glasses: a pair with black frames and mid-sized lenses that sat perfectly on her face. They were better than any pair he would have picked for her and just made her cuter.

“Hey, you made a good choice,” he said and gently took hold of her chin to turn her face to different angles. “You suit them.”

“You think so?” Y/N said, her face warming. “I was worried you wouldn’t like them for a second.”

“You kidding?” Ash said as they left the store together. “Nah, you look cute in them.”

Y/N smiled and reached up on her tiptoes to gently kiss him. “Thank you, honey.”

 “You’re welcome, poindexter.”

“Why did I have a feeling you would end up teasing me?” Y/N said with a laugh.

“You just know me so well, baby,” Ash crooned. “I could say other things to you. How about if I said you look like a sexy librarian?”

“I’ll think about that one, just don’t tease too much or you’ll get it.”

"Can't wait," he said and took her hand in his to lead her to the parking lot.